Today I went into a store (my social outing for the week) and tried on one new shoe (I didn't have the energy to take both shoes off/on). I walked a few steps over to the uncarpeted floor to make sure it would feel just as comfortable there, and turned around & saw one shoe on the ground by itself.
My thoughts were as follows... " Why would someone leave one shoe in the middle of the floor?" Then, "That shoe looks familiar... where have I seen it before?" & "Gee it has an insert just like I sometimes wear." Then I looked down at my feet & at that point realized: "Oh gosh, that's *my* other shoe." ~;-D
Great story about YOUR shoe...yea, we NEED funny stuff like that... in fact I think we should start a "brain-drain" short story list!!! I thought about that today when I couldn't find the pencil I just had in my hand...turns out it was in my dish drainer, where you put the silverware!
I catch myself using the remote control to try to turn down the volume of my son's vocal cords! When my husband catches me, we laugh like it's a joke, but I actually expected his volume to decrease, and was thinking we needed new batteries!
Even though CFIDS is a SON OF A **#@@ it does occasionally have it amusing moments. Like the other day I went to spray some bug spray on a single roach who had invaded my apartment.
To my amusement after spraying him I noted the roach's hair appeared to be now held in place. Because I had sprayed him with hair spray by mistake. So now this roach has natural-looking and easy to manage hair with hold that lasts. As a wise person once said, "isn't that a hoot."
Two years ago when we went on vacation I sent postcards to family and friends with my home address. I came home to a mailbox full of mail for my friends and family waiting for me. LOL!
I haven't had a real classic one lately to start off with -- so I'll dig up an old one: going up to lie down with the newspaper in one hand and a full cup of coffee in the other, and figuring out too late that the hand you use to turn the doorknob has to be the one with the newspaper, not the one with the cup of coffee ...
Didn't hurt -- just made one hell of a mess. That's also what happens when you pour the coffee before remembering to put a cup on the saucer first ...
What HURT was when I was demonstrating for my daughter how to make great corn bread (a couple of weeks ago), which means you have to heat an iron skillet (or in this case my favorite porcelain-covered iron skillet) in a 400 degree oven, put the skillet on the stove, put a little bacon grease on it, pour the batter in (it sizzles), and then put it back in the stove. Got the first part okay -- used two hands and two oven mitts. But when I went to put the bacon grease on it, I grabbed the handle with my left hand.
Now, you have to understand that not ONLY do I have slow reactions from CFIDS, but ALSO my left hand doesn't have all the sensation it should because of an accident years ago. So I was going about my business when I realized my daughter was screaming at me incoherently, and I looked down and realized I was holding a 400 degree handle, and I dropped the skillet (fortunately didn't hurt it). Then I realized this was going to hurt, so I shoved my hand in cold water. (And left it in ice cold water for the rest of the evening.)
Dang thing never hurt after the first day, but it's still peeling ... I look at it from time to time and say to myself, Huh. That looks strange. Wonder why ...
I have trouble remembering the calendar year. This can get mighty sticky when trying to write checks.
Not quite as funny to me, I can't prepare the simplest meal in my kitchen without either cutting myself on a kitchen knife or burning my hands. I could function with greater safety at the age of five than now. I forget to use potholders or have them in my hand and "miss" the spot. I tried slicing a slippery wet Vidalia onion yesterday, and, yes, sliced my finger instead. Those onions are supposed to be white! Last week, I decided to shave my legs again, after some hiatus, with a safety razor, of course, and I actually cut into a vein. I almost painted my bathroom red to match the mess I made, but ended up cleaning it instead.
What I need is a padded cell sans knives, heating elements, or razors, but, of course, WITH tv, music, books, and a great view. Do they have those?
I too write checks incorrectly as to year. And I too have developed motor skill problems via this DD.... I have dropped boiling water on myself too many times while being stubborn & trying to help cook. I have also burned myself (forgetting what a pot holder was) and cut myself way too many times while trying to help prepare food (and have scars to show for it). I buy knives & utensils with rubber handles whenever I see them (Farberware has some), it helps a bit (we even have one pot with it - which is too heavy for me to lift anyway).
Then there is my egg story..... One day I was determined to make a favorite sandwich of mine all by myself (it is very hard for me to ask for help, it feels like I am a burden). The sandwich entails a fried egg, and there were no eggs left, but - duh uh, I only found that out after the other preparations were underway for the sandwich. So my Fiancee took me to the supermarket & we bought a few additional items. He doesn't want me to carry anything (for obvious reasons) so when we got home, he grabbed all the packages quickly, so I would not try to help & he accidentally dropped the eggs in the driveway.... Well I was sympathetic, as that is typical of something that would now happen to me, and we just went back to the store to purchase another dozen eggs. Then upon arriving home, I tried to finish my sandwich & take an egg out of the refrigerator. Well, plop it went onto the kitchen floor which he had just washed..... Gee was I glad I was sympathetic to him earlier... and we both laughed at the predicament & he helped to clean it up. OY.... a sense of humor is imperative!
In that 'vein' I hope you don't take to shaving your arms, as the emergency room personnel may think you 'slipped' on purpose! !;-D Besides, red is not 'in' for bathrooms....
My personal favorite with checks is when I have to pay my hubby's business bills on his account...well...I'm supposed to fill out everything and then he signs it. (yeah, right) I'm busily figuring out who gets how much..make the lists...then fill out the check and SIGN it. oooops...so, I tell my self "that was REALLY stupid", void the check, go to the next one and do the same thing again! I have to actually put a sticky note on the signature part that says, "DO NOT SIGN". THEN I remember not to sign :)
Oh and then there was the time I put the checks in the wrong envelopes....that was NOT fun :) But....when I called to try to straighten it out...I said it was the "new" accountant :) Think anyone believed me?
The way I usually mess checks up is I put the wrong things in the wrong places -- like my signature where the amount is supposed to go, for example.
Off our kitchen, perched atop a front-loading dryer, sits this wonderful hot plate in the form of a large thick pyrex glass tray, a great gift from my parents years ago. It sits there still, but no longer plugged in for easy access. As with your stove, folks kept laying thing down on it, and then somehow that little knobby would get turned a few degrees, and voila! Baked catalogs, braised plastics, toasty folded laundry, hot tv program schedules, and the like.
Back to cooking. Opening cans, say, of soup, is one of my specialties. When I'm eating alone, there is soup left in the pot after I've helped myself. So I usually figure I'll set the burner to "warm" just in case I want seconds. Eight hours later it gets discovered, usually by my husband. Makes a great coating for the inside of stainless (oxymoron) steel pots.
The spouse usually brings it to my attention with a gingerly, "Now don't get mad, but I need to tell you something" approach. Of course I only get mad at me. But I really watch for those absent-minded things that normies sometimes do, and BOY, when he does one, I gleefully give him, the "I need to tell you something" approach. In the past, I'd let those things go (like catching him leaving the house with a stove burner still on). Not any MO-ORE! I call it "brain fog's revenge."
I LOVE it!! I do that stuff all the time. Like putting my sweater on in the car after fastening my seat belt....getting to my destination and not being able to figure out why I can't get out of the car...(couldn't see seat belt with sweater covering it...never mind that I could FEEL it holding me in...)
The other day opened little packets of cat food and instead of dumping the food in the storage tin and the wrapping in the trash can...I put the wrappers in the storage tin and threw away the cat food....good thing we can laugh about these things.
I wanted my husband to bring me a pain pill (Motrin) and said "Honey, I need a valentine." (Maybe I'll get one this year...) In church someone asked me where my daughter was. I told them she was in the check-out lane... isn't that what the FOYER is called???
So, here's one of mine. My husband gets this new (manly-man) truck and decides to take my car one day, leaving that damn truck with me. Well, I had to go somewhere really important (can't remember where, but if I drove that truck.. it had to be important.) Now, I get in that truck, start her up and the windshield wipers are going....back and forth. It's a beautiful, sunny day, so ok, I'll just turn them off... Well, I couldn't figure how to do that particular task. I pushed, pulled, cursed, every possible thing I saw, but nothing made them stop. To make a long story short, I had to drive everywhere I went that day with, you guessed it, the wipers just going...back and forth and on high speed, I might add. So, I decided that if I squirted the windshield washer thingy, a lot, maybe everyone at the red lights wouldn't notice and think me totally wacko. Needless to say, as soon as I pulled up in the driveway, and tried one more time, THEN I discovered the secret. I still, to this day, hate that damn truck.
My daughter had just been accepted and attended her first day at a new private school. I was driving her home, lecturing her about the importance of paying attention, not zoning out as she was prone to do. I advised her to sit in the front row to help her remember to pay attention to the teacher. In the midst of my lecture, I pulled in to the bank to get some cash at the machine and told her to wait in the car, I would just be a minute.
After getting the money, I was studying my receipt as I walked back to the car. I opened the door, got in, put the key in the ignition and it would not fit. I heard a gasp and looked over at the passenger seat. There was seated an enormous Hispanic woman with her hand over her mouth and her other hand crossing herself and she was muttering in Spanish and looking absolutely terrified! Needless to say, I was in the wrong car! It wasn't even the same make as mine.
I scrambled out, apologizing, mentioning my new glasses, etc. When I got to my car, my daughter was rolling with laughter, pointing at me and laughing so hard she couldn't speak. When she finally got herself under control, she asked me to please continue my lecture on paying attention, especially the part about sitting in the right seat ....but then she started laughing all over again! I know she will never let me forget it.
Who said Brain Fog can't be a wee bit funny - just gotta laugh sometimes, or it is too easy to :-(
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