My Rick Perry Moments

All right, it's not nice to make fun of people, but humor very often depends on not being very nice - what we English majors call "transgression."  On the other hand, I am here to defend poor Rick Perry, who blanked out the other night in a debate.  The three agencies he was going to close the minute he took office.  There was A, there was B . . . and what the hell was C?  He couldn't remember.

the candidate

Anyway, it is better to call this kind of thing a Rick Perry moment than to call it a senior moment.  I am sick and tired of that.  Too many of my friends are Boomers, so of an age to have mental processing slow down and sometimes stall for a bit.  Inevitably, they say, "haha, senior moment."  Now wait.  I'm a senior here, three years older than the oldest Boomer.  Slower processing is usual, common, and for all I know, inevitable as you age.  And it really isn't nice to make fun of your grandma.

You talking about me?

I've had two forgetful moments this morning, and I've only been up a few hours.  The first was The Fated Laundry Load.  I had to kick-slide laundry basket to the chute (carrying it would kill my shoulder), feed the stuff down the chute, fill the basket again.  My arms were particularly bad this morning, due I think to an excess of indulging Tashi yesterday, letting her climb up on my shoulder (the one with the torn rotator cuff) and then holding her so she could lie on my heart.  You will admit, that is the sweetest thing.  It fills life with love.  But the arm holding her up was said left arm.  It is sick and tired of being overworked while the right arm, formerly known as the dominant arm, heals from the fracture incurred two months ago.  Not healed yet.

So down I went and now sorted the laundry into two baskets, you know the drill.  Kick-slid those across the laundry room.  Went through spraying stains, blabla, putting in right amount of detergent, putting in Downy fragrance-free.  Stood watching to see that I had the right amount of clothes in the right amount of water.  And . . . realized I'd put the wrong freaking detergent in.  The stuff from the big box I bought accidentally a while ago that has Spring Burst or some such fragrance.  I can't stand it on my clothes.  I mean, I seriously can't stand it.

Now, that was moment number one.  So after a nourishing breakfast of hummus, Wheat Thins and sunflower seeds I went down and ran the damn load all over again, this time with a little Biz to hopefully take the smell out, more Downy.  Sigh.

I said I had two of these this morning, but offhand I don't remember the other one.  Enough said.