We attended not one, but two parties this weekend, which is not the norm for shy old me. Both were very fun, but today I’m wondering whether indulging in three ciders, two glasses of wine, and eight hours of not being a total hermit over the course of two days was enough of a shock to the system to cause damage to my short-term memory.
You see, today we ran some errands, starting with a stop at Super Cuts to get our hair trimmed. I really don’t like getting my hair cut, so I tend to put it off awhile. Today I needed about an inch and a half taken off, which doesn’t seem like a lot, but my hair is only shoulder length, so it feels pretty significant. But you be the judge–here’s a before and after pic:
So here’s what has me questioning my short-term memory: I just caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and was completely surprised and caught off guard to see myself with shorter hair. And that’s the THIRD time that’s happened to me since we got home a few hours ago.
To my credit, I’ve also been involved in the hunter-gatherer phase of collaging all afternoon, where I’m in between projects and so I’m just sifting dreamily through images in search of material for the next one. I wanted to do a collage with a canker worm hero, in honor of the swift approach of canker worm season. Lo and behold, the omniscient, kind Powers that Be behind Ranger Rick magazine included an image of a hookworm—which looks close enough to pass for a canker worm—in the latest issue, which arrived Friday, at the exact moment that I was bemoaning my lack of good worm pictures.
But I’m starting to suspect that I have ADHD, because in the course of looking for accessories for the canker worm to wear, I ended up stumbling across and simultaneously gathering together and organizing images for seven different future collages.
So I choose to believe that these memory lapses don’t mean that I have early onset dementia. No, it’s just that I spend too much time dwelling inside my own head, puzzling over critical, complex life decisions (like whether I should dress up a rabbit as a samurai warrior or as a bride), to remember frivolous, external things (like having just gotten my hair cut). I see it as me allocating my limited mental capacity efficiently, toward the things that really matter to me.
I, for one, chalk that up as a win, as should anyone who doesn’t want their rabbits to go running around naked all the time.
Maria Linn 