In which I do something completely in character
Yesterday, I had some friends from work over for a barbecue. We had a great time, tasty food and cold beer. I have some great coworkers, and I enjoyed a chance to talk with them outside of work. However, this post isn't about that -- although I could talk for a long time about the amusement of watching the kids catch the chickens.
Instead I want to write about my brain. Or my lack of it.
This morning I checked my lengthy list of chores. Two of the items required money and driving. Without much trouble I find my keys. I was feeling pretty good. Then I started hunting for my purse. I looked everywhere. Including in the fridge. And the condiment shelf. No luck.
After much thinking and fretting, I finally started seriously retracing my steps. And I found my purse.
It was in the safe at QFC. Glad I left it somewhere it would be kept safe.
Thankfully an employee must have seen it right after I walked out, because all my cash, credit cards and such were still safe.
Instead I want to write about my brain. Or my lack of it.
This morning I checked my lengthy list of chores. Two of the items required money and driving. Without much trouble I find my keys. I was feeling pretty good. Then I started hunting for my purse. I looked everywhere. Including in the fridge. And the condiment shelf. No luck.
After much thinking and fretting, I finally started seriously retracing my steps. And I found my purse.
It was in the safe at QFC. Glad I left it somewhere it would be kept safe.
Thankfully an employee must have seen it right after I walked out, because all my cash, credit cards and such were still safe.