Okay, that might be a little extreme – but it’s sort of how I feel this week. I’m the person who always remembers everything, the person who is never late, who has her entire pretty darn complicated schedule in her head.
Twice this week I’ve forgotten appointments – one social, one dental. I should have remembered both of them, especially the social one as it was with an old friend (in both senses of the word) and we seldom see each other. We booked the dinner engagement weeks in advance and when I arrived home at 7:30 on Saturday evening after a long and tiring day, I checked my voicemail and it was Rosemary asking me where I was.
I was appalled because I missed the dinner engagement, but even more appalled that I had forgotten it. I should have taken it as a sign.
Because yesterday afternoon I got a phone call from my dentist’s assistant to remind me of my appointment for today. I had rescheduled the appointment four times – always unable to fit it into my more-than-usually-complicated schedule. And yet, despite the rescheduling, I still forgot it.
I feel even worse because I have – thanks to my more-than-usually-complicated schedule – started writing things down. What I’m forgetting to do, what I forgot to do this week, was to switch my calendar to June.
I’m waiting now for the third thing I’ve forgotten – it’s sure to be just as important as my dentist’s appointment and my dinner with Rosemary, and I guess that’s the sense of impending doom. What can it be?
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