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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The missing casserole caper

mond gone

It’s official. I’ve gone and lost it. My mind that is. It just up and left me all of a sudden and I’m still reeling from the feeling.

It started when a friend of mine from California came to town for a visit and I invited her over for lunch. Since she’s way out on the west coast, she hasn’t gotten wind of my culinary disasters and didn’t even hesitate to accept my invitation the way my local friends do.

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