I forget things all the time.
I lose things regularly.
Just today, I’ve wasted an hour searching for a little device that allows me to move images onto my computer from the little card in my camera. The camera, purchased more than ten years ago, is a bit old by today’s standards, when sharpness of imagery seems to be constantly improving. For a couple years now, I’ve been using my small tablet to take photos, instead. The tablet has books downloaded on it, for reading or for listening to, so I have it with me most days, anyway. The same cord that charges the tablet will plug in to the computer for downloading photos.
For no particular reason, in the last few days I have taken my camera with me, in walks around the yard and down the road, to snap photos of the dogs, summer greenery, and blooming things. Sometime in the last two years, I moved that little seldom-used device for retrieving pictures from the camera off the desk, and put it away. But where? I have now searched all four drawers in the file cabinet, every possible shelf, and one box and two baskets where I sometimes stash things. No luck.
This is frustrating, but not worrisome. Other than having to choose a different photo than I’d planned for this blog, it’s not a big deal. Even big things, like forgetting about meetings I scheduled myself (as I wrote about a few days ago) are understandable, as long as they are isolated incidents.
Years ago, when the hardware store also had a lumberyard, and I still worked at the hardware, we got a call from a customer who needed lumber. We didn’t have full time staff at the lumberyard; one of us went up there whenever needed. I left the hardware, and got into my car to drive the quarter-mile to the lumberyard. I backed out of the parking spot, and made the necessary turn onto Donegal Bay Road. Then, muscle memory kicked in (while my brain, evidently, zoned out), and I turned left onto the King’s Highway, right onto Paid Een Ogg’s Road, left onto the Fox Lake Road, and left into my own driveway before I remembered. I was not supposed to be going home! I should be at the lumberyard!
Foolish, yes. Inconvenient, undoubtedly. But also, not the end of the world. And, fodder for a good self-deprecating story. An extreme, but isolated incident. I’m sure there have been other similarly ridiculous lapses over the years…but I can’t think of any specific examples. It’s when things like this start to occur regularly that I get bothered. I’m not quite worried yet, but I do believe it’s time that I pay more attention to things. I need to write things down, for a couple reasons. First, to keep me from forgetting things, and second, to help me remember what I have forgotten!