Sunday. I’ve never been keen on being home on Sundays. I always feel like I should be as lazy as I can be on Sundays but there is clearly always something to do.
The Walking Dead is on. I put it on. It’s streaming on my computer as I write this. The third window on my computer is open to a social network I use often.
I don’t feel myself today. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. I sit beside a window overlooking a rural dirt road. Not many cars drive on it. It’s peaceful. I like it. There is no reason for me to move from my current position.
I noticed something recently and I’ve been keeping tabs on it. I noticed that I’ve been forgetting things minutes after they’ve come to mind. There are mornings when I’ve made coffee, poured it into a mug, added two sugars and milk to it and when I’ve gone back to the mug, I had forgotten if I’ve added sugar. I try hard to remember but I can’t.
There have been other instances. I’ve been driving and, all of a sudden, I am unsure as to whether I am heading to the office or heading home. It takes me what feels like an eternity to begin recognizing the route again.
With that said, I don’t know whether to be fearful of the prognosis or that I’m adjusting comfortably to this new state of being. I’ve built routines and have begun utilizing apps that help remind me of things. I’m still working on the Did-I-put-sugar-in-my-coffee-or-not thing. I’ll figure that out someday.