What was I doing?

As old age advances at a great rate of knots, I find myself struggling to remember things. Some are far less important than others, like getting to the bottom of the stairs, heading towards the kitchen and not being able to recall why I was going there in the first place. Those forgetful moments never seem to have a great impact on my life as I find that once I return to the top of the stairs, my memory kicks in and I can remember exactly what I was down there for. This kind of forgetfulness is good for my legs and is my daily cardio-vascular exercise.

A more worrying kind of forgetfulness is heading out of the door, realising it's a bit chillier out today than yesterday and realising that I have forgotten to wear underwear. Not a problem if I don't tell anyone I guess but we all remember that warning from our mothers when we were younger, yes, today is the day we will get run over and my friend Cheryl might be the one driving the ambulance and what on earth would she think?!!! I'm guessing she'd think, "ah, good old Ali, some things never change"

The thing though that I find oddest about my memory is that the things that happened right from my early childhood can be recalled in the blink of an eye. My first pet, trips to the seaside, Sunday tea at my Wicked Aunts when she made us eat bread and butter with tinned fruit, my lovely Aunt's budgie called Fred and the stories my grandfather told me in the scariest of thunder storms, the list is endless.

But ask me to pick something up from the supermarket and be fool enough not to write it down? No chance. Birthdays, anniversaries or appointments not on the calendar? Not a hope in hell.
I'm just thankful that as I threw my car keys in the bin earlier, something, somewhere clicked and realised that they actually belong in the drawer.

Right, where's that pink?!!!