The absent-minded confessor

absent minded
It’s becoming increasingly clear that my chronic condition, once considered “lovable absent-mindedness” has been elevated to a critical, possibly terminal condition.

To wit: I headed to the bank this morning to make a deposit. Not only did I miss my turn and have to back-track but when I finally got up to the front of the drive-through I deposited my electric bill. I had to go home and start over, muttering curses to myself for the waste of time.

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