Things Fall Apart

I'm getting clumsier and more forgetful. I can't honestly say this worries me too much though. It kind of adds a certain spice to life. And it's helpful that I don't get overly worried about things that I forget. Case in point, yesterday was a very busy day, as noted in yesterday's post. What I didn't mention then was that at the time of writing I was a little worried about managing to mislay the bag for my laptop. It's not much of a bag - falling to pieces, in fact. I think it embarrasses the Missus, but I feel it has a certain ragged charm. Fortunately the laptop wasn't in it when it went missing; unfortunately several important cables and other bits and pieces were.

Actually I'd realised that I left it somewhere, and knew exactly the somewhere it had been left, before leaving work. Yet the thing was gone which led me to two possible conclusions: either it had been picked up and kept by someone with a passion for inexpensive cables, or it had been picked up and kept temporarily by someone who judged that the idiot who'd left it on the table for the world to admire needed to be protected from his folly. The latter turned out to be the case (thanks Greg!) and I was able to retrieve the thing before work proper began.

If this had happened twenty years ago I would have been sort of sleepless over the loss. Last night I slept like a lamb - and I'm talking about a lamb with a good conscience here. I do wonder though how I would have reacted had I mislaid the laptop itself. I'm guessing I wouldn't have been quite so phlegmatic, though I doubt I would have reached a state of total meltdown.

And just to round everything off, I seem to be in one of those phases I sometimes endure of extreme clumsiness such that I keep banging into things and incurring damage of one sort or another. Here's the tally for the last week: an awkward cut on my right ankle I don't remember acquiring; some scraped skin at the base of my left thumb, which I do remember - and it hurt; a sore set of toes on my right foot (though not quite bruised) as a result of running said foot into the base of our coffee table; and, amazingly, a small laceration on the back of my right hand which appeared after the point in the day when I formulated the notion of listing my various wounds in a blogpost. I mean, you'd think I might have been on the defensive by that time.