Eighty Again

So I had another ingrown toenail, which became so infected and painful that I brought myself in for the third time to have it surgically removed. I won't go into garish details but I will post this garish picture.

(Yep, ow).

Again I ask, just as I did with my last ingrown toenail surgeries: am I like eighty? What's next, cataracts?

Today my brain was prematurely aging. Crabby about being awake when all I wanted to do was stay in my warm bed, I decided that it would be a nice start to my day to light a candle in the bathroom. No, I wasn't trying to mask other odors, thank you very much- I was just trying to add something friendly to a very unfriendly hour.

Within the hour, I was driving down Cedar on my way to work when I realized something dreadful. I hadn't blown out the candle.

I'll admit that I drove a mile or two while considering the worst that could happen. It's not like the candle would tip over on itself. But, I reminded myself, I did have a cat, with an over-confident tail. I took the next exit and went back south, leaving messages at the office that I wouldn't be in for another hour at least. I like my house too much to lose it over driving fatigue.

I jogged upstairs, expecting the upper level to by now be smelling like fields of lilac. Nope, not really. I walked into the bathroom to find an extinguished candle.

Yep, that's right. I added an hour of drive time to my commute this morning because I had absolutely no recollection that I had blown out a candle. Not like, "Hmmm, did I do that before I left? I think I did...." Nope, I had absolutely no memory of it at all.

Two hours later, I was filing paperwork from a new patient into a new 3-ring binder chart. When I went to file it with the other charts, I saw that one had already been made. Irritated that nobody told me this was already done, I grumpily dismantled my binder and shuffled my papers into the other one. It was then that I noticed the handwriting on the other chart.... It was me that had already started a binder. Organized, with-it me.

With-it me also left my office to do some work inside the hospital when I forgot something that I needed. FOUR TIMES. On the third trip back to my desk, my friend Krista reminded me, "be good to yourself." So I walked in a fourth time to grab my wallet. I was buying coffee, darn it all. Maybe that would unscramble my brain a bit.

Parenting is hard, yes, but so is being a human. Today was a very human day.

In other news, Oliver wore half of his ravioli dinner tonight.

Yes, Ollie honey, I feel exactly the same way. Let's just go to bed.