Loss of memory of is just one of the banes of old age. Anyone over about 70 worries that one day they will wake up with Alzheimer's Disease. Very few do, but it is a worry. The inability to retain information is quite common in old people. It certainly is with me (okay, maybe drug and alcohol abuse contributed to my situation). I must carefully plan everything and make notes. I have already told you about my Day Timer Books. Maybe I wrote about this before (but I do not remember). This has a great effect on my ability to learn Spanish. The irregular verbs are murder. The conjugation of some borrow not a single letter from the infinitive. It is pure memory work (you can see my problem). Everything on the computer requires a password now. No way to remember all of them, so when I can I use the same ones (I know that is stupid, but so am I). If I write the password down, I can never find where I put it.
Bridge at 1:00 on Thursday is pretty much ingrained in my head, but other dates or appointments not written down, will probably be missed. I would never think of entering a store without a complete shopping list. The list cannot be done at one sitting. Every time I realize that I am running short or out of something, I must write it down on my list. Sometimes my "to do list" is carried over from day to day (sometimes for more than a week). As I told you, I am basically lazy and if it can be put off, it will be put off.
Whenever I plan on leaving the house, what ever I need to take with me will either be tossed on the comforter or lying on the corner of the small dinning table at the top of the stairs. I only have one pair of sandals with rubber soles. If it is raining, I must leave them also at the top of the stairs or I will forget to change out of my leather soled ones. Often as I reach the bottom of the stairs, I will think of something I forgot to take with me. If I already have something in my hand, half of the time I will lay down what ever is in my hand when I pick up the new object (leaving the former behind), It is not totally hopeless, but close. I usually leave the key in the lock on the inside so it is staring at me when I exit. This does not always work for me.
Last week I decided to visit a bar that is only a half block away from me. My favorite bar tender was off that night at my usual bar. Luckily a good friend of mine was sitting at the bar. He had been in Canada before I left and I had not seen him since my return. We had a nice chat and after my second beer, I said that I was going home. As I walked toward my apartment I reached in my pocket for the key. Not there! My cargo shorts have six or seven pockets, I checked all of them. I went back in the bar and looked on the floor under my bar stool. Nothing!
I explained to my friend about my lost key and that the only person who had an extra key was in California that week. My friend thought I had better call a lock smith. Then I noticed I had also forgotten to bring my phone. Whenever I plug it in to recharge, nine out of ten times I will leave it hanging on the wall plug. If it isn't on the table or on my bed cover, it will be left behind. I told him that I had left the windows open as it was a very warm night and if I had a ladder I might be able to reach the balcony. He suggested a lock smith again and said he would go get the number and left the bar. I wondered if maybe at his home he had the cell phone of a lock smith who worked after 9:00 at night.
He was gone a long time as I sipped on my third beer. Then the bar phone rang and the bar tender who speaks not a word of English handed me the phone. It was my friend who had a ladder and said to meet him at my apartment. I had to pay my bill and under the circumstances figured I should also pay my friends bill as well. He had obviously been at the bar a lot longer and it seemed to take forever for the bar tender to tally the bill. I would have said, "Hurry up please!" but since he did not know English I knew this would just delay the process.
When I got there my friend had what looked like a ladder off a fire truck that he said he got from his landlady. It barely reached the top of the balcony railing. He insisted on climbing up (well it is at least 20 years younger than I am). Shortly he opened the door with my keys in his hand (they were in the inside lock). I thanked him profusely and told him I was going to have an extra key made and give it to him as he only lives two blocks from me.
Another narrow escape for me due to the kindness of friends. It does make me rethink just how safe I am here since my windows are open all day for fresh air until I go to bed. Had the fish restaurant next door been open, I am sure one of them would have ventured over to ask what was going on. But the taco man across the street nor the dozen or so clients thought that a ladder to the second floor was anything unusual at all. Maybe in Mexico it is not that unusual.
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