I Can Feel It Coming

There are just some seasons of life when you realize that if your head weren't attached to your body, you would surely walk off without it.  Seasons when it seems everything is converging at once and you're just hoping to somehow merely survive it with all your limbs intact.

I had a season like that back in grad school.  I was working on my MBA, taking classes at night.  I had two part-time jobs at that point, one for a local eye doctor and the other working for the university in the Student Life office.  My grandfather had recently died and I was just generally feeling swamped by life.  I became acutely aware of how scattered my brain and my life had become when I sat down one day and took stock of my craziness.

I had developed the habit of leaving my apartment/car keys.  In the door.  Overnight.  I would come home, unlock the door and just simply forget to take them back out.  I would wake up the next morning and be ready to head out the door and have no idea where my keys disappeared to.  I knew I was in trouble when this became an established norm and I was no longer surprised at myself for leaving my keys in the door overnight.  I think I came to expect it.  As soon as I couldn't find my keys, I knew right where they would be.  Thankfully I lived in a sleepy little college town, with a perpetually grumpy 90-something-year-old man and a retired professor as my neighbors.  

And then there was the time I was making my grocery list.  I was busy gabbing on the phone at the same time, attempting to multi-task.  When I got off the phone and looked down at my list, I realized I had written "shaving screams," instead of just "shaving cream."

The one that trumped them all, though, was when I was in my office one day at school.  I was packing up for the day, getting ready to leave and I couldn't find my phone.  I am pulling out drawers, rummaging through stacks of paper, looking underneath books.  Can't find it. I check and double-check my purse.  I check my pockets.  I check my coat.  I check the seat cushions.  Still can't find it.  I check the trashcan.  I check the floor.  I check the cabinets.  Zilch.  Where on earth could that thing have gone?

And then it dawns on me.

I.am.on.it, talking to my brother.

Heaven help me.

All of these memories came back to haunt the other day as I began realizing that I am presently following that same pattern here recently, which is giving me some serious cause for concern.

Exhibit A: I met a friend the other day for lunch and afterward I really just had one mission - go to Walmart and pick up supplies for the upcoming trip.  One stop, that's all I needed to do.  I kept telling myself, "Don't forget to turn off on this road to go to Walmart, don't forget to turn off on this road to go to Walmart, don't forget to turn off on this road to to got Walmart."  I was about a mile past the turnoff when it occurred to me that I had missed it all together.  I completely lost all motivation to turnaround and go back so I just went home.

Exhibit B:  I was getting ready for work the other morning, jumped in the shower, got out, was trying to figure out what to wear for the day and started doing my hair and makeup.  As I'm blow drying my hair, I'm thinking, "Ugh - my hair just looks so gross today, like it's still really greasy."  And then as I started thinking, I began to wonder, "Ehhhh - I'm not even sure I shampooed it this morning??"   I honestly couldn't remember - if  I did, I must not have washed out all of the shampoo.  I eventually came to the conclusion that I just didn't bother to shampoo it at all.

I can feel it coming.  These are the early warning signs of the impending train wreck that will be my brain over the next few months, between going overseas, starting a new position at my office, moving into a new apartment and host of other things.  If you see anybody walking around with either a glazed or slightly panicked look, it's probably me.