I Hate Being So Forgetful

I Hate Being So Forgetful

by Marilyn Mackenzie

There has been someting I wanted to mention, to share, for the past week.  I can't remember where I was when I first thought about it.  I think I was in the car coming back from the chiropractor's office.  I have a small voice recorder for those purposes, one that is supposed to be voice-activated.  But I never learned to work it, and I think it's sitting on a shelf in the kitchen.  I think.

Every once in a while, the thought will pop in again briefly, like when I'm just about to drift off to sleep.  Back when I wrote for pay, if a thought came to me while I was in bed, I would get up and write it down on the notebook I kept by my bedside so it wouldn't be lost.  Many writers dream ideas for articles and stories, and I learned that soimetimes they were my best.  

Whatever it was that I wanted to share popped into my head just as I was putting the finishing touches on the Daily Whine & Shine and ready to hit the submit button.  I thought for sure me to complete that one simple act.  But, alas, the thought has skipped town again.

I had a busy weekend, and my fibro is letting me know I did too much.  Fibro fog is my campanion this morning, and I will blame my forgetfulness on that.  Otherwise, I have to admit that I'm getting old.  And I have to remember that my Grandmother and my Father had Alzheimer's and that Grandma's Alzheimer's started in her 50s (although we didn't realize or recognize it back then).

I vow to open up a notebook page if that thought I wanted to share ever pops into my brain again while I'm doing something else on the computer.  Or to write it down on a scrap of paper if I'm doing something else around the house.  But I wonder what I'll do if I remember it while I'm driving.  Hmmm.  Perhaps it's time to look for that voice-activated recorder.