And Then, An Age Thing...

   Short story long, I had to get the car towed to the garage on Saturday afternoon after only getting a few hundred yards before the cab filled with exhaust fumes so we beat a hasty retreat to home. Made it. Anyhoo, all mechanics had finished for the weekend, no surprise, so it’d be Monday before they got to look at it.
   Now to the age thingy. All us of an age have experienced times we’ve headed, say,  upstairs for something only to get there with no idea why we’re up there. Wot follows takes that to a whole new level for me.
   This mid morning I gave the garage a call to check on progress or lack thereof. I was calling from my handphone from the kitchen and, call completed, thought I’d better keep it charged ready for incoming and protracted fix it price haggling.
   This phone sits right in front of me on the coffee table on top of a note book and pen kept close for reminders an’ such. And when it’s charging it hangs over the arm of the sofa right where I plant myself.
   Finally, long story short, I finished the call, plugged the phone into the charger and then, less than five minutes later, glanced at the note book, saw no phone and went into ‘panic’  search. Last place used? Ah! Kitchen. Damn! Not there! Wot to do? Call me via my little nest of vipers phone seemed like a plan. Back to the sitting room to grab her phone. Oh, wot’s that hanging over the sofa arm wot where I do sit? Yup, it all came flooding back.
   So there I go, a whole plot erased from my four, obviously only two now, megabyte swede in a tad less than five minutes. Hell, that’s right up there on a pare with that Billy 10 ‘operating’ system is it not?
   Don’t sound like much but it did give me pause for thought and reflection. I think...
      Now, if only I could remember why I’m charging an almost fully charged phone.

Quote;  Margaret Solis.

“Not only is my short-term memory horrible, but so is my short-term memory.”