You'd Lose Your Head If It Wasn't Attached

Well, not exactly. I don't tend to lose things. I forget things.

I'd set my head down in the spot that I always put it in, and promptly leave the house without it, not even realizing it was gone until after I needed it.

I wouldn't exactly call myself forgetful. I can remember abstract ideas, the steps to complete a task, the specifications of a project.

Instead, I will fully admit, I am absent minded. My theory is that my head is so full of stuff that mundane things, like remembering to buy milk at the grocery store, escape me.

Tonight, Brian went up to Indy to pick up his tux for Marc & Michelle's wedding. While there, he called me to let me know he was out of Boost (what he has for breakfast every morning), and was I planning to go grocery shopping? I said that although I hadn't planned to go tonight, we were out of a few things, so maybe that would be a good idea.

I went to the grocery store. I bought fruits and veggies. I bought meat and cheeses. I bought milk and tea. I indulged myself, and got a pint of ice cream. I splurged on some organic chicken strips. I saved a buck and bought the store brand baggies. I took my purchases to the cashier, gave him my Kroger card to scan, passed my bags (that I remembered for once!) to the bagger. The bagger looked at the bags like a monkey doing a math problem (at least it wasn't this bad), but eventually got all my purchases in the bags. I loaded my bags in the trunk, and met Brian at home, who helped me bring them in. I put them in the cupboards and in the refrigerator, and as I was putting the last item away, cheese into the cheese drawer, I realized something.

I had forgotten to buy Boost. THE thing that prompted me to the grocery store was still, sitting silently on the shelf, at the grocery store.

But you know, if you want to print 1 copy of your document to a Xerox 700 digital color printer and then release the rest of the copies from the printer, you go to File, Print, Properties, Info, Select "Print and Hold", scroll to the bottom of the page, and in the very last box type in "1234." Just don't ask me to pick something up for you at the grocery store.