I Am Not Senile!

Date December 9, 2002
      I am not senile.
      I do not have Alzheimer's.
      But----
      Sunday, I skipped the gym - although I did make it into gym clothes because cleaning house in Lycra is useful.
      No floppy sleeves.
      I got up about 8AM and decided to start setting up for the tree my kid wants.
      After Thanksgiving (when the dining room table is unearthed and put in the middle of the weight room cum dining room), we had left the coffee table (nestled under it for storage) in place.
      Afterward, we had moved the coffee table out of the family room (old) and I now have wall-to-wall furniture in the new family room - my feet seldom hit the floor.
      A few more cushions in the family room, and I won't see any carpet! He has an ottoman, I have a coffee table.
      I even have cramped quarters in front of my computer!
      I sit next to the folded up (temp) NordicTrack.
      The dining room table is now moved up to the window (perpendicular to it) at the back (next to the piano covered in stuffed bears) and I have a hole on the floor where we can stick the tree. Between the end of the table, in front of the pantry and at the end of the treadmill when it is open.-----
      Because that's the only space left.
      I needed to relocate the Military Bench Press - and that target spot had a pile of magazines etc. that needed cleanup. I have been going around the house rounding up piles of magazines. Sort and toss. Pile up and whatever. I have way too much paper!
      I got down and sorted the mess and picked it all up off of the floor. That pile has been there - oh, about three years. There was stuff from Toronto in it. (1999?)
      I moved the bench press and its associated gear (two sets of free weights - his and mine).
      I removed the stuff sitting on the table (gourds and squash) - some of which I will now cook.
      I put decorations back on shelves.
      I got out the Christmas table cloths.
      I grabbed the silver-topped salt and pepper shakers, taken out at Thanksgiving, and put them aside while I changed the table cloths.
      And I haven't seen them since!
      I got out tarnished silver (time for annual polishing).
      I got out cut glass (not real expensive high-quality - but good stuff as far as I am concerned).
      I got out the metallic bouquet that goes in a cut glass vase and is my holiday survivor. I add bits every year.
      I got out the "squeeze my hoof and I sing" reindeer and added my "squeeze my paw and I sing, shake my head and move my mouth" red bear.
      I rounded up little bear with Ghiradelli chocolate still hanging on their necks (leftovers - must eat that - make a note).
      I searched everywhere. Shelves, Cupboards. Sink. Drawers.
      What had I been thinking?
      Did I have them in my hand while wandering around looking for other Christmas stuff? The coffee cup? The odd candle?
      I checked.
      No joy.
      After three hours of on-off searching, I had to admit defeat.
      I haven't checked the garbage (did I drop them in whist holding trash in my hand?)
      Or the recycling bin---
      I told my son.
      "When you get up ---- look for the-----"
      He suggested that Thursday, when I have my physical, I discuss Alzheimer's with my doctor.
      Nice child!
      He had slept until about 2PM.
      Until I went and shook him awake.
      He is in withdrawal from one of the taper drugs (part of chemo).
      After feeding him, I settled down to read. I was pooped.
      I read "The Last Precinct" by Caldwell.
      I kept sensing that I had heard this story before.
      Or part of it.
      She does flashbacks a lot so I figured that was it.
      Well, once finished, I went to the shelf where I keep her stuff.
      This was a hardback (cheap) - and there in the stack of paperbacks - was the same book!
      I had read it two years earlier (and read a lot of books since).
      Whoa!
      Well, let me think. Fall of 2000.
      I just might have been, just maybe, distracted.
      That was about when my son went from bad to worse to coma.
      Guess that is why the book, which was read as a distraction while sitting in the hospital room, wasn't clearly remembered.
      That is excusable.
      However, when I mentioned this to my son, he decided that I was just getting old and losing my mind.
      Further evidence. (So he can take over my money and put me in a home. Ha! I am trying to spend all my money all by myself! And doing good at it. And I'll be 61 shortly!)
      I think I'll go buy a couple of new sets of silver (plate) topped salt and pepper shakers (a Target - Sears - Fabric Store knick-knack item).
      If I find the others later on - so be it.
      You should have extras on the table at holidays anyway. Holidays are the only time we actually sit at the table.
      Bah! Humbug!