Friday, July 11, 2008

On mouse holes - Terry speaks

I suffer from the usual aging annoyance of marching into a room with great certainty and forgetting completely why I am there. I retrace my steps, hoping that something along the way will jog my memory and get me back on track. Or I hurry to my computer, sit down, and can’t remember what was so pressing that needed my immediate attention and 3 or 4 emails later, get up and remember that I was in the middle of a recipe. I go to the grocery store, leaving my list on the counter at home.

I am at a total loss to remember to bring my eco-friendly grocery bags into the store. We here in Washington are being hounded to bring our own grocery bags and I am dedicated to the idea. But the few times I have finally remembered and gone back to the car to pick up the bags, they were at home by the front door. I have requested a huge sign outside the grocery store saying: “Don’t forget your bags.” There is one store here that has done just that. Now I forget to read the sign.

If my husband takes a day off that isn’t his usual day off, I am out of sync all week. Two times last Saturday I tried to remind my husband to turn on the radio and listen to the sermon since we had to miss our usual Sunday service. The second time he reminded me it was only Saturday, he had a strange, knowing look on his face. I wonder if he thinks I’m losing it. I wonder at times if I am.

But this is even worse. I do this every day. Yesterday I went up to our loft to get a box. While there I noticed the guest bed and decided to change the sheets. The phone rang. I hurried down and answered it. Someone wanted a name and address. I sat at my computer to find the name, then read some email, followed a link somewhere. Before long I remembered the project for which I needed a box, and went up to the loft. And there I finished making the bed. I begin the day with a list of goals that really must be accomplished, if not by the end of the day, then soon. I am like this hound:

The fable is told about a bloodhound who started a hunt chasing a stag. A fox crossed the path, so the hound chased the fox. After a while a rabbit crossed the path, so the hound went after the rabbit. Later, a mouse crossed the path and the hound ended up chasing the mouse into a hole. The hound began his hunt on the trail of a magnificent stag and ended up watching a mouse hole!

Being computer addicted certainly does contribute to watching a lot of mouse holes. Some are fun and worthwhile, while others are deep holes down which one can fall and not surface for hours at a time. So please, don’t ask me what I do all day. I probably won’t remember.

(Mouse hole Photo by Hot Grill, shared via Flickr)

4 comments:

Jeremiah McNichols said...

Great stuff. I may regret saying this if your condition gets seriously worse, but I have to say, I've been doing many of these things since my late 20s. Given the right set of circumstances, I could probably literally wrap a gift to myself (low-priority gift, a lot going on that month). I should try it sometime.

Terry said...

Imagine what I'll be like at 80!

Peggy Forster said...

You know. Terri, I don't know if this is necessarily an age thing either at least not for me. I have ALWAYS been like this. I credit it to a way too busy life, and I feel I often do lots of things but nothing really well. A feeling I hate by the way. I often wish I could go back to the days when sitting on your porch swing and shelling peas and talking to a neighbor were the major events of the day. I think God wants me to slow down and savor more. Get off the rat race wheel and smell whatever roses are out there.

Terry said...

You're so right, Peggy, so maybe it's not just about age! I do happen to have a lot on my plate at the moment, so maybe I'm noticing it more, but it does seem to be an ongoing mouse hole chase!