Key Issues

Scatterbrainitis

I had my first taste of coffee sometime around age 10. My mom almost always had a mug in her hand, and half-empty mugs could usually be found here and there all over the house and vehicles.

I thought my mother was superwoman. I watched her hustle and bustle all over the house, getting things done, making things happen. And, hey, perhaps the caffeine gave her the motivation, but I was convinced then, as I am now, that there is nothing [short of brain surgery] that the woman can not do.

Given that... I always found it humorous when she would stop, look down at her empty hand and lose all train of thought, before asking the four walls and all in it, "Where'd I lay down my coffee?"

She'd putter, retracing her steps, for a moment or two, give up, and then pour up another mug.

I always wondered, amused, how superwoman managed to lose her beverage of choice, particularly since I never seemed to lose track of anything that I actually enjoyed.

And so... I thought of her this morning, not as I chatted away with my aunt on the phone, and drank hazelnut coffee out of my favorite beach mug...

...but when it disappeared.

Now. I thought of giving up, of pouring another mug. But, NO! It was the principle of the matter. I MUST find it. I. MUST. NOT. TURN. INTO. MY. MOTHER. Not because she's not an amazing person, but because... Well, isn't that obvious?

I retraced my steps. Once. Twice. Thrice. No mug. No coffee. No beverages to be found. Unnerving. Now, I had been home alone, meaning no one else ran off with it. Nooo, I did something with it. So I got off the phone, and having only visited three rooms prior to the disappearance, I checked them again, more thoroughly. I even checked dumb places like the pantry and refrigerator.

And then... I gave up. But I'll be damned if I was going to pour another cup! No, not gonna happen. I was finished anyway, I told myself.

Time passed. Three hours to be exact. And then I noticed the microwave was chanting it's fave word: "END! END! END!"

I didn't remember putting anything in there, but I checked. And yeah, there was my beautiful Seaside mug, holding my now cold hazelnut coffee. And yeah, I felt retarded.

But even more unnerving: I still don't remember putting it in there, not even a fuzzy memory. Nothing...

So... I figure that either my aging process is in warp speed, or I had a visitor.