Tuesday I was feeling rather good — it was time to get out of the house and go have a look around at what’s going on in the ‘hood.
Combining my love of just puttering around with actually accomplishing errands, I shot out of here toward the direction of Le Tarzhay to pick up some prescriptions. I got to the Pharmacy counter where I was greeted by name (what does THAT tell you – ack ack) and the nice lady had my prescriptions all ready. I opened my purse to find —- no wallet. None whatsoever. I looked up at her and said, “Hmmm my wallet isn’t here – OH CRAP I left it on the kitchen table.” She laughed and said, “Do you have your checkbook?” Me: “Yep, sure do.” So I whipped out my checkbook and then remembered my driver’s license is in my wallet which is still sitting on the kitchen table. I looked at the nice lady and said, “But I don’t have any I.D. with me.” She remarked: “Do you know your driver’s license number?”
“Do you know your driver’s license number?” I’m sorry – I just had to repeat that for emphasis. This coming from a twenty-something who deals with me on at least a monthly basis for the last umpty-ump years asks me if I know my driver’s license number. I left my flippin wallet and my cell phone at home — why on God’s green earth would she think I had the capacity to memorize a driver’s license number (especially since Ohio no longer uses Social Security Numbers). Heck I wasn’t even sure my shirt was buttoned right at that point.
I sheepishly remarked, “Nope, don’t know it, guess I’ll be going home to get my wallet and I’ll see ya in about twenty minutes.” She smiled and said, “No problem.”
“No problem.” Oh Huh — problem. How does one pick up one’s purse from the kitchen table and directly stare at one’s wallet but fail to grab it and put it in said purse? Because I got a piston not firing somewhere. There are neurons up there that are refusing to communicate with each other. The wallet neuron in charge of connecting to the purse neuron was obviously on a cigarette break.
At least I didn’t do something stupid like flip my underwear up on the counter — no wait that was yesterday and there was a toilet involved. I need an intervention…sigh…
