Moving… to the State of Panic

Don’t think that the grandkids left behind a string of broken items and a wrecked house to put me in this state.  I’m the one that created the situation in which I now find myself:  the deep doodoo place.

Normal grandmothers would, by now, have the guest rooms all fresh and clean and cookies baked for the next visit.  Instead, this grandmother is spending my days searching for things I put away for “safekeeping”  during the grandkids’ recent Thanksgiving visit.

Although I vaguely remember putting my laptop cord someplace out of sight, I assumed it would surface before I needed it.  When the power level on my laptop dropped to 7%,  I put Plan B into operation:  I got really serious about trying to remember where I’d stuck it to keep it out of little Granddaughter’s reach.

Stupid of me to hide it in the first place.  What could she do to a power cord as long as she didn’t flush it?

I began an intensive search of all the possible places I might have stashed it.  At this point I can safely say that it isn’t in a closet or a drawer.  It isn’t hidden behind the toilet paper stash in the bathrooms or the sheets in the linen closet.  It isn’t under the bed, the sofas, or anything else with a skirt.

I’m beginning to wonder if I flushed it myself.

While I was looking for the cord, I was also hoping to come upon  a couple of Christmas presents I’d hidden before the family arrived.  Those gifts are not in any of the above places either.  One of them is a gift for our Atlanta daughter who was here.  This is the first time I can remember that she didn’t “happen to come upon” her obscurely hidden gift.   When it comes to discovering presents, the girl has some bloodhound in her.

The first of the week,  I dejectedly trudged into the Apple Store to buy a new power adapter for my laptop.  That sucker was $80!!!  The person who assisted me said that if I found mine within two weeks, I could return this one (even used) and get a full refund.  I’m down to 11 days now and I still don’t have a clue. I’m thinking of asking my daughter to come back for a quick visit.  If I dropped a hint that her Christmas gift might be very near something that smells like a power cord, who knows?

It used to be that my super-organized spouse would shake his head at my disorganization, but now, he is completely sympathetic.   Having hit the age when  chronic CRS screws around with our brains and our attention span, he understands.  Bob Dylan is right: the times, they are a-changing.

Just yesterday, my Dearly Beloved consoled me by confessing that he poured himself a cup of coffee and almost put the coffee pot in the refrigerator.  The only thing that stopped him, he said, was that the fridge was so full of leftovers, he couldn’t find room for it.

Hmmm.

I’d better check there for the cord.

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7 thoughts on “Moving… to the State of Panic

  1. Did one of the grandsons mistake it for his and took it with him? Could it be under DB’s banjo? How about in your purse? Has DB been using it for Scout’s leash and just didn’t notice? Maybe your granddaughter found the power cord and she did flush it, along with your daughter’s gift. Been having any plumbing problems lately? 🙂

  2. Yes, there was a plumbing emergency during the week, but we’re hoping it’s fixed. If it was the cord, Apple can keep the $80. Good news! I found Daughter’s present. It was in the back of my craft closet, behind 10 years of unfinished knitting projects. First place I should have thought of, right?

    Also, the cord must not be under DB’s banjo because he practiced on it Tuesday. (I was at the other end of the house and couldn’t hear, but I know it was the banjo by the speed with which the dog came racing up the hall. She only goes at top speed if he’s practicing banjo; guitar is more of a lope.

  3. I’m very familiar with CRS. My husband and I both suffer from it. We’ve noticed most recently that it is stealing our vocabulary. We routinely substitute the wrong word for another one, or can’t think of the word we want to use at all! I think I may have also come down with Senior’s Attention Deficit Disorder (SADD). My trains of thought depart the depot before scheduled and don’t follow any particular routes!

    1. SADD! You have saved me a doctor’s bill. Medicare probably wouldn’t pay for that exam. 🙂

      So-o-o-o true about vocabulary. Do you think it’s because our brains are so chock full of valuable information that words are leaking out?

  4. ncmountainwoman

    My dear husband and I are suffering from the same CRS disorder and I must say it is so nice to be together in our forgetfulness. I watched the Packer game last night but turned it off about five minutes before the end of the game. Imagine my surprise when I saw this morning that Aaron Rodgers had saved the day with the finest Hail Mary pass you can imagine. When I told my husband about it this morning, he looked stunned and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me the Packers were playing on Thursday?” I reminded him that he was the one who told me Thursday morning. “Oh” he said. A common phrase around here. Like you and DB each of us tends to ‘fess up to something in order to make the other feel better.

  5. You won’t believe it, but I SAW that play! I was engrossed in a book, DB had already conked out, and I looked up to see what the score was so that I could tell him if he woke. So you didn’t wait ’til the bitter end, eh? Were you wearing your lucky shirt? You may need to change detergents for that one. 🙂

    For the record, I told DB this morning that GB won. We went out for a late lunch at a sports bar and they were replaying the play. He said, “Watch this play. You won’t believe the pass!” Told him I believed it when I saw it last night, too. He was aghast. “So you KNEW Green Bay won?” Yes, Dear. I figured it out. sigh.

    1. ncmountainwoman

      No lucky shirt. I knew the game would run late so I was in my robe and slippers. Turned off the TV in disgust to read a while before bed. Big mistake.

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