Senior Moments

Definition: Instances when one forgets or fails to deal with something because there are many other things to think about or do at the same time??

I decided to title my blog SENIOR MOMENTS to chronicle the varied events and musings that I, as a senior of seventy-three, am very fortunate to experience. For example; yesterday I participated in my regularly scheduled Tai Chi class, then visited my masseuse for my regularly scheduled Shiatsu session. In between, I made phone calls to discuss my consulting arrangement with the Mental Health Clinic that wants my psychiatric services part-time. I have signed up for these 2-day per week independent contract work periodically to replenish my travel fund. I have just returned from an extended trans-Siberian Railway trip from Moscow to Beijing, and with the holidays just over, my coffer is low. I then had a phone conversation with my banker about the construction loan application he is processing for me, and he got me very frustrated with the minutiae required to establish my credit-worthiness. Banks have knee-jerked in the opposite direction of over-documentation since the mortgage fiasco. And the humans pushing these papers are no longer capable of thinking logically. I am retired, I explain, and no longer working, therefore I have no pay stubs. They already have my IRS returns which details my finances, and they are asking for pay stubs. So I was upset after I hung up and forgot where I placed my reading glasses. I was in another room with them when the phone rang with the banker on the line. I retraced my steps but couldn’t find them. In the meantime, while I was looking for my glasses, I decided to put away my little table Christmas tree, to hibernate in storage until the holidays. I also took my holiday wreath off the door, since that will hibernate in storage too. I then took my trash, since I’ll be passing the trash chute on my way to my storage closet. Not finding my glasses, I went back to my computer to pick up where I left off writing the fate of my heroine, in this historical novel I’m working on for my third book. I used another pair of reading glasses, one of those cheap drug store variety I had all around my condo before my cataract removal. But these did not fit because my vision changed since the surgery. In the evening when I was changing to go out for dinner, I found my prescription glasses in my dressing closet. How they got there, I have no idea.

 

 

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