"Hello!"
"Oh, hello - I didn't see you there at the back of the queue."
"How are you?"
"Very well, thank you; and you?"
"Struggling to remember things. Honestly, look at me. I have to keep my shopping list in my purse all the time with a little pencil or I simply forget to bring it out with me."
"But doesn't that mean that every time you want to add something to it you have to get your bag, open it, find your purse, find the list, find the pencil, write it down and then do the whole thing in reverse."
"Well, yes. It's very time-consuming and rather boring. But at least I don't lose the list. Anyway, I'm at the front, now. Better get on. Bye, Pat.......It is Pat, isn't it?"
"Pam. It's Pam."
"So sorry."
"But I only live next door. And you've known me for twenty years."
"I do aplogise. I'm not very good with names either."
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11 comments:
Lol!
I have to write everything down too.
So spoke a woman who has given birth! I shed far too many memory cells along with my placenta, seems this may be a common occurance.
"How are you?"
"God, my piles are killing me. And I buried my dog yesterday."
Actually, I'm exaggerating, but only slightly. People round here tend to give you a medical answer. Never a dull moment.
I am impossibly bad with names and end up just avoiding using them.
But a list with pencil in bag is FAR TOO ORGANISED!
Yet again another true story in the life of ... well, it could be me!
It's mumnesia. I have it very badly at the moment and it is frustrating and embarrassing! But I don't confess to it in any detail anywhere except on my blog. And now yours.
I am SURE, yes POSITIVE that death would be not only more interesting, but positively stimulating!
At least it sounds like you manage to take the bloody list with you!
My tendency is to write the list, then leave it on the table at home...
In which I am reminded of an old lady I knew long ago when I was a girl. She would take her list with her all right, but on coming home would leave it on the table again, and half an hour later think "Oh, shopping list!" - and go out and buy the whole thing all over again. Once, she did this three times - and only when the shop alerted her family to what was going on, was any action taken to stop her.
I fear I am fast becoming that old lady!
And when it comes to forgetting names - well, there is comfort I find, in recalling the title of one of the volumes of of Alec Guiness's autobiography - he called it "My Name Escapes Me".
I am sorry...whose blogs is this...what did you say your name was...alpha dad?
Oh, boy! Now, if every I've heard it, would be a good time to move.
I hear there's some really great real estate deals over in Iceland ...
Got the first two letters right. What more does one want? (I must admit I am capable of being introduced to a person and forgetting their name by the end of the conversation. I blame childbirth. Though since that was two years ago, I think that excuse is wearing a little thin by now...)
Casdok: Me, too. Mostly conversations, it has to be said.
DJK: I think we're all in the same boat, DJ.
Orchidea: God, you must be mentally robust to live there. I've always dreaded moving to a country where literal interpretation is the national hobby.
Mid-lifer: We have to stand united on this one.
crazycath: I'm sure you're completely different. What I can't portray is the length of time it took for this conversation to drag itself out, phrase by weary phrase.
expatmum: Bread, milk, fruit, bread, milk, fruit, bread, milk, fruit. There we go. That's the list. No wonder I keep a blog to ensure my brain cells turn over, like a car engine.
IB: That is a cracking story....loved it. Bread, milk, fruit, as I was saying.....
Sweet I: Am I betraying my feminist principles? Sorry, SI
Molly Gras: Iceland? What? How clever you are to put things in richtext - is that what you did?
Potty Mummy: We're all too busy. Brilliantly clever, but busy. Well, that's my story.
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