A Month in Fast-Forward

Repeating a point from Tuesday's post, this month has felt like it's been in fast forward. It isn't that I've been busy. At least, I don't seem to have gotten much done. It's like my mind's been doing laps 'round the gym.

It can't be mental exercise, though, or I'd have been a little smarter. Case in point: over the weekend, My son and I went out for some groceries. That's when I realized that I didn't have my car keys in my pocket. Or, in any other reasonable place. Or in a few unreasonable places, for that matter.

We got the groceries, using spare keys, but I still wanted to find my set. I even considered the possibility that I might have chucked them in the trash, while dealing with some stuff we really did want to throw out.

Sound familiar? It should. I'd gone through about the same thing with an appointment book last week ("Friday: Where'd Wednesday and Thursday Go?" (July 11, 2008)).

That night, walking through what I'd done after the last time I remembered using the keys, I came to my computer desk.

I'm learning: Instead of telling myself how I couldn't have, I checked in one of the drawers. There were the keys. Right where I'd put them.

I don't generally do that sort of thing.

There's a pretty good explanation. We've been sorting through a household-full of stuff that's been taken down from the Red River Valley. Besides what I can see and touch, there are a lot of memories there.

I'm down to about four piles of books to go through - for now - so that's pretty much taken care of.

My father's doing about the same, although I've gotten a phone call from someone he's been dealing with, asking me to please get the power of attorney paperwork to them. They're right, of course: but it's another reminder that my father is getting rather close to the end of his life.

Not the happiest thought in the world.

Where was I?

Right. July in fast-forward.

Whether all this explains why I've been feeling like one of those wind-up toys that whiz around in circles until they run into something, or not, is anyone's guess.

My mind's done another lap around the gym, and I'll be repeating myself soon.

Time to stop.