Lately I have been experiencing what I will call “senior moments.” When one happens I try to write it off as a byproduct of exhaustion or distraction, but the frequency of these moments belies a more serious cause. The question is what could that cause be?
Perhaps I should explain.
Last week I was driving home from work when I came upon a major intersection. Not your typical four-way crossing, this intersection boasted five separate streets converging through one set of traffic lights.
As I made my typical left-hand turn I thought naught was amiss, that is, until roughly five blocks later when I realized that my blinker was still blinking. It’s flashing green arrow on my dashboard cruelly reminding me of all the times I accusingly labeled a fellow driver “Senior Citizen” simply because they had done the same.
Forgetful moment? Temporary deafness (in all fairness, how can anyone hear that pitiful clicking noise over Green Day)?
In shame I clicked off my signal light, and slouched down in my seat, silently apologizing to the driver behind me for committing my faux pas. For if there is nothing else that annoys me about today’s drivers (and there is plenty), it is the glaring lack of turn signal usage that plagues our streets.
In another, seemingly unrelated incident, I went to the store to buy a battery for my malfunctioning garage door opener. On my way back I was singing along to my iPod (Hawk Nelson this time), when a sign on the right caught my eye.
“Sheepshead Tournament,” it proclaimed, and I got excited at the prospect of playing an old family favorite card game.
No doubt, when members of my extended family get together Sheepshead is known to take us into the late hours of the night. Many a hospital waiting room has seen us counting trump, and airport lounges are excellent places for our own rule-breaking versions of the game.
I do not know many folks my age who even know of the game, and so I was intrigued at the prospect of trying a hand or two. Wanting to know more, I quickly scanned the sign for dates and times, only to find that the sign was outside the local VFW.
My interest waned as I pictured myself in a room full of grandfather-types who smoke Marlboro’s and drink High Life whilst calling me “Girlie” and teasing me about not having a “fella.”
Some of my interests, dare I admit it, are more of the “senior set” than others. I need not mention the golf league I am joining, nor the quilt I am stitching, but I will anyway for argument’s sake.
My latest senior moment happened just this morning. Yesterday, in a show of productivity, I cleaned my humble, dust-ridden apartment, and ithe process of cleaning my coffee maker, I left the filter basket to dry next to the kitchen sink. This morning, bleary eyed and zombie-like, I readied the coffee maker for my usual four cups of brew.
In went the water. In went the cone filter. In went one large scoop of Starbuck’s Breakfast Blend and one large scoop of decaf.
The minute I pressed the on switch, I heard the sizzle of water under the carafe. I realize that I put the filter in the coffee maker, but forgot the filter basket underneath. The coffee was subsequently dripping everywhere, and coffee grounds were escaping into the carafe at an alarming rate.
Turkish coffee, anyone?
All of these senior moments have one thing in common: they have happened within the last month. The month that just happens to lead into my upcoming birthday, whereupon I will officially leave the first Quarter Century of my life.
Perhaps, in preparation for what is to come later in life, my brain is giving me a taste of what my senior citizen days (daze?) will be like. In this way I will get used to the forgetfulness, being hard of hearing, and also learn to enjoy pursuits previously labeled Geriatric.
Perhaps I'm merely losing my mind. Only time will tell.