Cob Web Cleaner

My memory is not the greatest...long term, short term...either one.  I can admit that.  I don't like it but I can admit that.

My mom has a bad habit of saying, "do you remember Mr. Crabtree?"
Me, searching through the cobwebs in my empty attic of a brain, "ummmmm...I don't recall him."
Mom, "Emil Crabtree?"  (I'm shaking my head slowly)  "Oh sure you do!  He and his wife Agnes...went to Greystone Baptist Church.." (I'm raising my eyebrows, eyes wide, pursing my lips, sighing...still shaking my head) "they would dress in matching outfits, always sit on the left side of the church..."
I left out another sigh that sounds like it is chasing out my words, "nope...sorry...I just don't remember!"
She gives me that look like I'm just not trying or I'm lying...either way, she is frustrated with me and grunts at me then starts with, "Well ANYWAY..."

My kids will do the, "I TOLD you!"  to which I will follow it up with, "I'm not saying you didn't...I'm saying I don't remember!" 

I spend a goodly number of minutes of my day retracing my steps trying to find the coffee cup that I set down somewhere that I was most certain was at least half full of some really good coffee...only to find it half an hour later with very cold coffee in it...and it is only two sips, not a half cup. 

You know what I blame it on?  I blame it on using both halves of my brain.  One should either be left brain functioning or right brain functioning.  For instance:

While typing this I am watching a serious cop show while having a discussion with my daughter and her friend Amber about how to keep a flying squirrel from slamming into the wall when you throw them (everyone knows that you have to buy the attachable front airbag and back-up parachute separate!).  The cop show is making me angry while the girls are shaking their heads, laughing and telling me how disturbed I am. 

DISTURBIA...the sign that hangs over the entrance to the cobweb infested empty attic of my brain.

This is what a double-use sided brain gets you (besides a large prescription for buspirin):
As I drove into the Wally World parking lot I slowed for a large woman using a cart as her personal walker while she swayed back and forth as if to a soundtrack of Michael Buble singing, ironically enough, 'Sway' in her head while huffing and puffing as if every step was squeezing the last bit of wind from her lungs, with whom I assumed to be her zombified teenage daughter scuffling slowly behind in her well-worn flip flops while using what is left of her human operating system to click out a text message to her equally zombified teenage friends.  Not wanting to try and maneuver my car around these two subscribers to the Law of Snail Speed...I went to the next aisle and promptly pulled my car into the first available slot.  I HAD contemplated giving the two travelers-at-the-speed-of-smell a little nudge with the front bumper of my car as my way of helping out the forward moving challenged but I kinda like not having damage to the front of my car.  After a short conversation with the male offspring of mine who was settling into his seat as if it was his own personal twin bed, I prepared to exit the car.  HOWEVER, who was in my way but the aforementioned Forward Moving Challenged mother and daughter...squeezing between my car and the one beside me becuz, as it ironically turns out, it is THEIR mode of transportation and Large Woman wants to put the contents of the cart into the trunk.  Meanwhile, the zombie girl slows to a millimeter a minute shuffle by my door, obviously unaware of my eyes watching her and my door slightly ajar.  I thought of turning my head away while quickly throwing the door open, causing the zombie girl's phone to be dropped to the ground and break open, slide under her mother's vehicle while she falls forward into the back of said large pillowy mother, which breaks HER fall while the cart goes rolling too fast for mom to hang onto and mom falls forward to the ground, where, upon contract, her large bosoms act as big rubber kickballs and she bounces back up, and backwards, onto her daughter and into my door, causing it to close on my leg...and that right there is the reason while I chose to wait for zombie girl to slowly inch far enough past my door so that I could exit without bumping into her.

And all becuz I got out on the wrong side of the bed...or was it the right side?  It all depends on if you are lying on your back or your stomach when you wake up.

Okay...