I'm Think I'm Going Senile, But Don't Really Remember

Posted by Nuzzling Muzzles

I've had memory problems ever since my head went through a windshield at 35 mph when I was 21-years-old.  However, now that I'm getting older, it's getting more difficult to stay sharp.  I take Ginkgo, but still I get distracted easily and am perpetually disappointed or frustrated from the results of my efforts.  The telephone is my worst enemy.  I wish I could turn it off, but I'm often expecting call backs.  With an election coming up, we are getting 2 to 3 political calls a day.  It's only going to get worse as the election nears.

I have been trying to put aside an hour each day to work on my novel, but haven't been able to add a word to it since November because I keep getting swept away by other things.  So, this morning I sat down with the intention to start reading my novel from the beginning to recall the flow of it.  I got as far as reading the first chapter when my mobile phone rang.  I tried picking it up, but somehow hung up on the person instead.  There was no caller ID, because the number was protected, so then I began worrying about the call I missed instead of reading my novel.

Soon I began noticing other things that needed to get done right away, like the dishes, the laundry, filling up empty water troughs, and paying bills.  I walked away from the hose filling the water trough in order to pickup the mail when the mail carrier drove up and distracted me.  Of course, the water trough overflowed.  I found two refund checks that needed to go to the bank, but didn't want to have to drive all the way into town just to deposit or cash them.  I decided to fill up the gas tank on my truck and get some lunch to kill a few birds with one stone.

I keep getting refund checks that are made out to the wrong names, and when I try to get the companies that mailed them to me to re-issue the check in the correct names, there is usually some screw-up and the whole process ends up taking up way too much of my time.  I'm only willing to write one letter or make one phone call to correct a problem.  So, I started thinking about what my time is worth, and I decided that for any refund checks I get below $50 that are addressed to the wrong names, I will try to get the bank to honor them, and if the bank does not, I will shred the checks and not bother trying to get a new one re-issued.

I know that sounds incredibly lazy, but it truly is a hassle trying to correct these things.  I have to make copies of death certificates and mail them, locate social security numbers and passwords, and even if I do get everything together, there's always someone at the other end who isn't paying attention, and they end up not re-issuing the check at all, or they just send out the same check in the wrong names.  It's not worth the headache.  I'd rather be working on my novel.

So, I approached the bank teller with my check and told her the story behind it and asked if she would honor it.  She had to bring the bank manager out, and this lady remembers me, because I'm constantly coming in with improperly addressed refund checks.  She's told me the rules of the bank multiple times, but I can never remember them, nor can I remember the process I go through to deal with one of these checks.  Do I need my ID or a debit card or what?  And then if they need me to slide the debit card, I can never remember the PIN.  Then I have to have them reset the PIN.  On and on it goes.

After they settled everything, I was struggling to get my paperwork together and shove everything back in my purse while other customers were waiting.  The expression on the teller's face showed complete exasperation.  She was fed up with me.  It suddenly occurred to me that I have become that slow-moving, forgetful, self-absorbed, annoying little old lady who drives everyone crazy in checkout lines and has to complicate matters with her confusion.

I picked up some items for lunch and went to the Express Checkout line, and guess what?  There was a little old lady on a scooter in front of me and she wanted to pay with an American Express gift card, but she didn't know how to use it.  The checker coached her through it, and I was polite in giving them their space.  The checker handed her the receipt and the lady said, "It's telling me to slide my card again."

The checker stopped her and informed her that her transaction is complete and that message is for the next person in line.  She then pulled a bagger off another line to help the lady out to her car.  I thought, "You know, this community really isn't bad.  At least they take care of their old folks."

I remember trying to shop in California at the store where my mother used to shop while I was staying in her house, and having the checker chew me out for not paying attention to what was going on around me.  The problem was that there was so much activity going on around me and I wasn't wearing my glasses, and I was overstimulated.  Plus I was from out-of-state, I wasn't used to this area's social norms, and I didn't understand the layout of the store.  The jerk treated me like I was a criminal.  Nobody would be treated that way in my town.

Anyway, I made it home safely only to discover that I was just at the market and I forgot to bring the shopping list.  We were out of milk.  Sigh.  I sat down in defeat and started eating my deli sandwich, only to discover that I absentmindedly ordered a sandwich containing guacamole, and I am allergic to avocado.  By the time it hit me that I was eating guacamole, it was too late.  My lips, mouth and throat were swelling up and burning.

I keep wondering if life will ever get easier, but at the rate my mind is failing me, this is probably the best that it gets.