Slipping

I don’t want anyone getting worried. I’m not totally losing it; not asking people ‘what’s your name again?’ five times in five minutes. People such as my sisters. Precisely because my brain is so sharp I want to prepare, right here, for the inevitable decline.

And yet...and yet...there is mounting evidence for concern. For example, I’ve started using ellipses. Just two sentences ago. Which for any writer not named Louis-Ferdinand Céline is pretty much a gateway drug to some shitty, sloppy habits. Next I’ll be swapping its for it’s, writing ‘hopefully’ when I mean ‘I hope,’ and spreading infections like “at the end of the day;” an AIDS patient of letters forcing unprotected man love on your eyeballs. That ain’t me. Wait, what the fuck am I saying? You know this already. This is why you’re all up on my nuts, nominating me for the Nobel and whatnot. And I appreciate it.

What I’m trying to say is, because I’ve scared myself with recent Alzheimery moves (description to follow) I want to brace self and readership for the future while I’m still faster on the buzzer than every Jeopardy contestant. I want to make my intentions clear.

So, we all have shit we do every day, right? Behaviors we do so often our brain can calmly surrender their management to muscle memory. Brushing teeth. Walking. Finding mouth with beer can without taking eyes off game. I’d also file washing one’s hands in the workplace bathroom in the same category, and I’m sure you would too. I know you’re not Australian. You wash your hands after wringing out your filthy prod.

Here’s the problem. The other day I got a very basic hand-washing sequence entirely wrong. I turned on the water, squoze liquid soap into my hand, then immediately turned and started “drying” the soap off my hands with the towel. You could reasonably assume I got distracted by the mirror’s rendition of my handsomeness. If you looked like I do, you would too. Get distracted. And if you saw me drying straight soap off my hands, you’d probably go “Goddamm that dude’s handsome.” No big deal. But then I did it AGAIN. And in a different wrong sequence. I...shit, ellipses again...but...fuck. I can’t remember what I did. I think I...ok, I’m pretty sure I just turned on the water then grabbed the towel straight off, with dry hands.

So here’s what I’m saying, basically. Just to be clear. When the day comes, probably as early as my 45th year, that I need to sit in a wheelchair after naptime all bundled in a blanket and staring unfocussed past the autumn leaves, and I can basically only feed myself with food that fits through a straw, I want the nice lady pictured above spooning my applesauce.

That’s all I’m saying.

Me, her, applesauce.

I hope that’s clear.

Thank you in advance for sorting it.