I’ve been missing in action for just a little less than one month. To me, in my old age, it was just mere minutes. But, in my defense, I’ve been pretty busy during those missing hours. Looking back, however, there’s lots of evidence supporting Diane’s firm belief that I’m a victim of dementia. I know that’s her belief because she points it out every time she quizzes me about something I was apparently supposed to remember. Regarding that, while in the midst of living through those events, and/or discussions it wasn’t made clear to me that it would be necessary to provide accurate answers about details.
Since I’m not much of a detail person I had to struggle through many awkward moments in an attempt to live up to expectations with accurate data. Because of that I did my best to fill my blanks with the best stuff I could make up in a hurry. I’ve done that so often that my reality is blurred with a lot of fake information. The longer I pretend, the more real it becomes.
Considering all that I think perhaps that living in a fantasy world might not be all that bad. I’m so good at it that I’m seriously considering a run for Congress in 2024. Maybe I’ll go for President. There’s considerable proof that anyone can run for, and win, political office without understanding anything about what’s expected. Credentials? Who needs real ones when you can just make up what sounds good at the time. Education? Same thing. All you need is money. Lots of it.
Something that may, or may not, influences voters is that I’m not aligning with a particular party. I mean, c’mon. Why are they called parties, anyway? Doing that kind of defines the kind of activity one might expect of those who affiliate with them. Instead, I’m not affiliating with any organization that is defined as a party. I’m just running for office. There’s another thing that causes me to go “hmmm.” Why do candidates “run” for office? Why don’t they just calmly walk for an office at a brisk pace? How about “vying” for office? Or “competing”?
If anyone wants to help with my campaign all you need to do is write my name in for any position of any ballot anywhere. Don’t send money. I don’t want to feel like I’m obligated to do something for somebody.
This morning was pretty exciting at our house when I tripped over the dog and crashed into the door on Diane’s shoe closet. If I hadn’t been carrying a glass of water and my iPad I could have probably protected myself a little better but being burdened as I was I had to stop my forward momentum with my face and right shoulder. Doing that wasn’t a conscious act as it happened faster than little brain could considered an alternate outcome. So, from about 3 feet from the door I began my descent into the door.
The first contact with the door was made with the outer corner of my right eyebrow, then the frame of my glasses, then my right shoulder. The noise was loud enough to wake up everyone in the house, even in the basement. It was quite astounding.
The door stopped my forward progress making a descent to the floor inevitable. The first thing that happened was gravity took over and I dropped vertically to my knees while my face slid down the door. Then I automatically tipped back and to my right causing my right hand to hit the floor first, then my left, and I rolled onto my back, still holding half a glass of water.
There was a lot of scurrying and exclamation as people tried to discover what all the racket was. Gilligan arrived first, then Diane, then Jeff. Someone took the glass of water from my hands but I don’t know who wound up with the iPad. Then I just laid there waiting to discover what was going to hurt the most. Oddly, there was very little pain involved and nothing broke. After a short period of fending off attempts to get me off the floor, I was able to attain a vertical position on my own. Then we went to Diane’s other house so Jeff and I could work on installing a new garage door opener. I was allowed to participate with the understanding that I would not be allowed on a ladder.
As the day progressed pains in my shoulder, wrists, and knees manifested as a reminder that I probably should have turned on the light before venturing into the dark end where the dog waited.
Now I must limp to my bed and prepare for tomorrow’s chores. We have to finish the garage door opener, then Diane and I have to pack our suitcases. We’re going on a trip.