EXCUSE ME, BUT HAS ANY ONE SEEN MONDAY? I SEEM TO HAVE MISPLACED IT...

Oh, lord...  I swear, my mind is about as reliable as a $2.00 retreaded tire.  I must have Oldtimer's Disease.

So, I get up this morning, bright and early, coffee myself into awareness and get ready to start my day.  I have an appointment, don't you know.  Yes, at 8 o'clock I have to go put some new tires on the car.  I've got clothes laid out.  My wallet and keys are ready and waiting on the kitchen counter.  I was prepared.  OK, I'm anal but I'm likeable.

Seasquirt is watching me.  Pondering what I am doing.  In amusement.  He's already figured out what I'm doing and is just sitting back and seeing how far I take it until he gets the pleasure of bitch slapping my brain into reality.  Finally, yes finally, he looks at me and asks "What the fuck are you doing???".  I respond, "tires on the car".  He cocks his head and gives me the Seasquirt "look" over the top of his glasses.  Then he giggles.  I hate that.  For no other reason than that I know I'm about to be told I'm doing something really bloody stupid.  And that I'm probably doing it with shoulders back and head held high.  And all without the good sense god gave a toothpick...

Then he tells me "Honey, it's Tuesday.".  ???  Huh???  Wha'???  Yeah, I'm only a day early in my quest for new designer tires.  Which would be Wednesday.  As in tomorrow.  Where the bloody hell did Monday go???  I mean, come on, it was yesterday.  I was there!!!  I even remember it.  I just don't remember it as being YESTERDAY!!!  We got a new cell phone.  We had lunch at Culver's with Andy.  I pestered the shit out of Nancy at AMS by asking "cuanto es esto" about everything I could put my hands on.  Hell, I even drove on the beltline and you know how much I hate that thing.  I even remember stealing a brand new bottle of Cholula  Sauce off  of the table at Culver's. (YES, they have that there now!!!  I'm in heaven!!!)   Yes, I remember yesterday.  Yes, I remember Monday.  I just don't remember it as being yesterday.  Or Monday.  And I was there.  Saint's on a stick, it was less than 24 hours ago.  Oh just fuck me, I have the short term memory of a freaking goldfish.  Hey, look!  I've got a plant...  Hey, look!  I've got a plant...  Hey, look...

I'm starting to feel like Julie Christie's character in "Leaving Her".  I'm about half a nonosecond away from starting to put pots and pans in the freezer and tossing the gum out and chewing the wrapper.  Hell, I already carry on conversations with myself when I'm in the kitchen.  Truly scary part of that is, I'm usually doing it in several different voices...  What's next, I start naming the refrigerator magnets???  The silverware???  OK, I will admit that I already have a "special" fork that I call Marco.  Don't ask...

Seasquirt, fasten your seat belt, it's gonna be a bumpy ride...