Look. How does a person lose a pair of boots?
Keys, yes (and I do so frequently), a mobile phone, maybe even a piece of clothing, which can slip off a hanger and conceal itself for long periods of time. But boots? Boots are bigger, they’re unfoldable, they cannot be accidentally stored in the fridge or lost in a pile of laundry.
And yet I find myself bootless this week, having turned the house upside down (not literally – I am but one woman) searching for my black, comfy, most-suitable-for work ones. I have probably put them somewhere ridiculous in an absent-minded moment of madness, but I have no recollection of doing so. No doubt they are resting damply on the conservatory roof or something as I write.
I despair at the state of my memory. I even bought myself a ‘Memory training kit’ in the sales – you’re supposed to do the mental training exercises for three minutes every day, and you can actually see your memory improve by tracking your results on a graph. Just the ticket.
Of course, after the first day, I forgot to actually do it.
There is no hope.
Filed under: complaining, confusion, mental health, weird, woe, worry
Maybe in your car?
Nope. Looked there. Keep ‘em coming.
I’d like a memory training kit. What does it consist of?
Well, it’s a set of cards and an egg timer, basically. You have a set amount of time to do the things on the cards: answer as many sums as possible, look at a list of 30 words for the set time, write down as many as you can remember. Then you add up your scores and plot the daily results on a graph, so you can see your memory improve before your very eyes.
Of course, you have to remember to actually do the tests every day. If I could do that, I wouldn’t need the kit in the first place.
The airing cupboard, the pantry or under the bed!
I bet Kat’s had a litter of kittens in one and hidden it somewhere so you won’t find out.
Here is what you do.
1. Decide you probably left them at the coffee shop where you kicked them off to get comfy.
2. Put on some other footwear and head to said coffee shop.
3. Realize that they are not there but you might as well have a Venti with a double shot as long as you are there.
4. Drive home. Twitching.
5. Repeat daily until you find the boots..or don’t care anymore.
Grannymar – nope, nope, and nope!
Billy – How big do you think my feet *are*, exactly?!
Marye – a fine, well-thought-out plan. You are clearly someone I can look up to.
I try. God knows, I try.
Kittens are only wee!