The doctor's bill is from the practice in NJ where I used to go for phototherapy. They billed me for my accumulated co-pay every two months. Well, I'm a scatterbrain. I'm sure they sent me a final bill which I'm equally sure I lost or put straight into recycling, so they sent me another one which I put into the 'must pay at once!' pile along with - wait for it... wait for it...- the credit card and the oil bills. So it was in a bit of a panic that I scrambled to unearth my checkbook and find stamps, but at last everything I needed was assembled. I scribbled dollar amounts, dates, dashed off a ribbon of ink that looked vaguely as if it might be reconfigured into the letters that form my name, but very probably not in the correct order. I'm not sure how writing quickly would make any difference, but my poor addled brain had taken control and I was but a passenger on that mad, wild ride.
When I came to the doctor's bill, I unfolded it to discern the amount due. There, at the bottom of the page, was a handwritten note. "We miss your smiling face and kitty cat stories!" Awww. After fetching a blank card from my bitterly cold office, I dashed off a thank you note. Back when I'd first adopted Zinda, I had to take her with me on days that I worked. The office staff was lovely about letting me bring her carrier inside when I had a session. They got to play with the wee baby and I didn't have to leave her in a sweltering vehicle. Everybody won. From then on, they asked about her just about every time I came into the office. So, at the end of the note, I told them about losing Zee. Then I started crying and Esme came bouncing over to see what was wrong and knocked the stamps off of the table, jumped down and batted them under the couch, looking back over her shoulder as if to make certain I was noticing the adorable and would I please stop with the sad stuff?
Anyway, I sent off my hastily written and nigh-illegible payments along with two Netflix DVD's we've had for the better part of two months. While I was riding that wave of productive activity, I dropped off Don's shirts at the cleaners. I even remembered to retrieve the clean ones. Then I went to the grocery store where I forgot to buy tortillas, which might not be a big deal except I'd planned to make fish tacos. "That's all right," thought I. "I also wanted to pick up some fresh ginger." So I dashed back into the store, bought tortillas and went home. Without the fresh ginger.
There's no point to this. No moral. Just a reminder that I'm scatterbrained and a bit of an eejit.