Minds that go walkabout

I think I’m losing my mind.

For those of you familiar with this blog, you will already be acquainted with this possibility. However, I am always the last one to pick up on these things, even in the face of irrefutable evidence.

Apart from an inability to keep personnel possessions from wandering off, such as car keys, wallets, reading glasses, gloves, credit cards etc., I now have to include my mind in this long list of strays. Somehow, when I leave home in the morning to head to work, and I board the ferry, my mind goes walkabout. Sometimes, it doesn’t return from its meanderings until I actually cross the office threshold.

Case in point #1:

Not too long ago, one cold, dark wintry morning, when all self respecting people were still curled up in their PJ’s, I took a wrong turn off the freeway and ended up getting lost in the sort of neighborhood where Pit Bulls walk round in pairs for protection. This would have been perfectly acceptable and understandable if I had only just started working in this area, but I had been travelling this route for TEN years.

Once I figured out how to get back on track, I spaced out and got lost AGAIN.

Case in point #2:

I was coming home on the ferry one evening and made my way down to the lower deck to locate the car, always a crap shoot for me, as I can never remember where I left it. I made a complete circuit of both car decks before realizing I had no idea where it was. The second circuit was a little more frantic, as they were now starting to unload. By the time I was on my third circuit, mothers were gathering up their children, and truck drivers were closing their cab doors to avoid the wide eyed lunatic who was starting to froth at the mouth. Suddenly, I realized why the car was so elusive. I had walked on.

Case in point #3:

This morning, I made my way up to the boat café to have breakfast, and met a good friend of our family. We chatted for the duration of the journey until it was time to get off. I made my way back to where, I was pretty certain, I had left the car. We have a Subaru Outback with a roof rack, which is pretty hard to miss, so it was with a certain amount of consternation and déjà vu, I noticed it wasn’t there. “Oh, It must be on the lower deck,” I said to myself as I raced down the all too familiar stairs.

No, not there either.

As I passed our friend for the 3rd time, I couldn’t help contemplate on the ease in which she had found her own vehicle, so I circled back up to where I had originally thought I had left it. And there it was, well, not quite. The Subaru wasn’t there, but our other old bang about Honda was.

It's hopeless, I tell you, hopeless.........