I’m turning into my dad

As we get older, some form of memory loss seems inevitable. I saw it happen with my dad. He stayed pretty sharp into his mid-70s; however, he’d tell the same stories to me again and again — fuck, I’ve been doing that for years. But my short-term memory loss seems to be expanding into new areas (which is why I decided to post this quickly before I forgot to).

Anyway, I was heading up to the grocery store because I’d run out of the essentials like frozen pizza and blackberries. I used to go shopping after 11 p.m. when there was blissfully hardly anyone in the store. Supposedly, the store’s new hours help improve safety during the coronavirus pandemic. So now Fry’s closes at 9 p.m., forcing me to shop when there are far more people out and about — ironically making me more likely to become infected.

Of course, closing time was rolling around as I left the house (Don’t ask me why I waited — just accept I’m a procrastinator). Suddenly, I realized I’d forgotten something and went back in. At that moment, the Houseguest distracted me with a question, and then I resumed my search.

I just spent 10 minutes looking frantically for my wallet, which had mysteriously gone missing.  Looked in all the normal spots but no wallet. I checked the pockets of the last pair of shorts I’d worn — nothing. I racked my brain. Where could it be? The last place I remembered having it out was at my desk the other day when I called the insurance company, but it wasn’t among the clutter.

I paced back and forth to the same spots I’d already checked three other times and confirmed my wallet wasn’t there. I don’t know why I was checking the same spots multiple times — maybe because no other locations made sense? Or maybe I was expecting a freak wormhole in the space/time continuum to open and just cough my wallet back up? (Not entirely implausible. There used to be a wormhole in my home office years ago — but that’s a story for another time.)

Anyway, after looking under the bed in vain, I was really starting to get pissed. Closing time was fast approaching! Then my hand tapped my front right pocket and I realized my wallet had been in my front pocket the entire time. Phew! However, my relief was short-lived as I walked back out to my car and it dawned on me that I’d originally gone back into the house to start looking for my car keys and not my wallet…

Goddamn it.

Check out another car key-related post.

Photo by Kaboompics .com from Pexels