Some days I just feel like a dunderhead. Yesterday, I realized my ATM card was missing from my wallet. I just got my new one a few weeks ago, and I had had to go in and update my info at Amazon, iTunes and other places. I used it to pay some bills by phone. Where it is now, I haven’t a clue.

Now, I know the card is here in the house. Very likely in this bedroom which has sort of been Command Central for me since the Day that Dare Not Speak Its Name aka Angie’s Adventures in Ditch-Jumping in a Crown Victoria.

I can only sit up in a chair for limited periods of time without discomfort so I sit here on the bed to watch TV, read, use my laptop and the phone.
I have not left this house and my wallet has not left this room since I got the new card.
It should be here. It’s got to be here. And yet Benny and I spent the better part of a morning yesterday turning the room over trying to find said card.

Have I ever mentioned I have a lot of books? And magazines?
And stuff in general? Arrgggggh. And it’s been piling up worse than ever over the last few months.
I did as much as my back/tailbone would allow me to do. Judging by the pain and spasms that woke me after only three hours of sleep last night, it was too much.

And we never found the card in spite of all our efforts. We did fill up a garbage bag with stuff I didn’t want or need, however, so some good came of it.

I am holding out for a day or two before cancelling it, because I just know once I do, it will turn up. That is the kind of luck I have, ladies.

I was cussing myself out yesterday because there are days when I am so much the Absent-Minded Blogger it is maddening. It is not that I am empty-headed; quite the contrary. There seems to be too much going on up there some days. Call them Blonde Moments; call them Peri-Menopausal Moments. They simply happen much too often.

Is it a system overload? Could be. Might have something to do with averaging only three hours of sleep a night. Some people do just fine on that; I am not one of them.

Lucas, baby, I can truly empathize. And I am sure I don’t look nearly as fetching as you when I am struggling with insomnia.
Of course, it’s possible looking at you and your brethren– Portah, Guy, Thornton, Deeming, Mulligan and the rest—is keeping me awake.

And I can’t get you out of my head . . .

Absent-minded in Alabama or Insomnia strikes again.

27 responses »

  1. Angie, sorry to hear that you didn’t get a good night’s rest yet again. As for the card, my advice would be, don’t cancel it just yet: I thought I’d lost mine once, promptly cancelled it and lo and behold I found it the day after! It slipped under some furniture. Very annoying!

  2. Sis, I inadvertently left my phone charger in my tote bag when I unpacked after the cruise, and I didn’t realize the oversight until we had already hoisted all the luggage into the attic storage space, so Tony had to retrieve it for me yesterday. Maybe these mental lapses are genetic:(

    • I just keep remembering Mama and the time she couldn’t find her glasses and Daddy suggested she look in the refrigerator. She thought that was a ridiculous suggestion. Where did she find her glasses? In the fridge. 😉 Yeah, maybe it IS genetic.

      • And I once stuck my wallet in the fridge along with the perishables after grocery-shopping. Seems we have a pattern here:( Seriously, though, praying you find the card and get some much-needed sleep soon.

        • 😀 Ok, sis, does that mean you had cold, hard cash?? (sorry, I couldn’t resisit). 😉

          Thanks. Right now Puddin’ is continuing to keep me company. I was astonished when Thumper came in last night and rappelled up onto the bed, curling up and keeping my feet toasty warm. She stayed for several hours. I think she got lonely, as she and Puddin’ usually hang out together. 😉 It was a chilly night so a couple of heat-generating felines felt good.

          • I’m glad you are surrounded by warm feline healing. As for the card, sometimes I find the hard drive just fills up too fast and odd bits come flying off. Try to sleep and get RA to help you find it in a dream.

            • I had to send my feline buddy out, I was beginning to feel claustrophobic. Now I am envisioning Richard in Lucas mode diligently studying every nook and cranny for the card. 😉

          • Angie, I can’t find my mobile!

            I’m positive I put it on the dashboard of the car (along with my wallet) before I started packing the groceries into the car. Of course, I forgot I put them there and, when I started to drive out of the parking lot, I heard a thud when I veered right. “Oh, just the wallet and the mobile hitting the floor” thinks 1.

            Once I got home and unpacked the car, I remembered to go back and look on the passenger side floor area. 1 wallet but no phone! I have searched that car several times in the past week to no avail. Of course, by the time I thought to “phone the phone”, the battery would have been well dead anyway.

            I don’t want to have to buy another new mobile, even though I buy the cheapest prepaid one I can find..because the bloody thing is sure to turn up as soon as I do.

            And I can’t find my new pension card!!!! I know I received it in the mail and I know it has to be somewhere in the computer room but…….

            Let’s just blame FMS and memory-overload!

  3. I’m sorry you’re feeling not up to par 😦
    If it makes you feel any better I literally forgot my pin code. I used the same one for everything- my phone, credit card, the works.
    I used it daily all my adult life and could recite it in my sleep.
    Then one day I went to an ATM and Poof! it was gone! Never to come back. I can’t even pretend to know a single digit. Not going to lie, that freaked me out!
    I hope you get a good night’s sleep! Fingers crossed!

    • Oh I’ve done that on a couple of occasions–I did eventually remember my pin, but only after feeling like a total idiot in WalMart and the pharmacy. It’s an awful feeling. Not just embarrassing but it makes you seriously wonder if you’re losing it.

      One thing that’s a problem is I have also mislaid my sleep mask which helped me in blocking out extraneous light. I;m about ready to look for a bandana and tie it over my eyes. 😉 Thanks for the good wishes.

  4. I am so sorry you are struggling with such intense pain. I will say at least you were in a tank when it happened. I drove a Grand Marquis for years and loved it. As for the lost card, I’ll offer this…one year I misplaced my Grade Book (back when it was a real book and not computerized), and a co-worker that was Catholic and happened to be retiring that year told me to pray to St. Anthony and say, “St. Anthony, something is lost that must be found.” I am not Catholic, but felt it was worth a try, so I said it sincerely, and within 5-10 minutes I went right to it. I have prayed that prayer many times over the years since, and I usually put my hand right on the missing item. Just a thought.

    • Thank you, Kate. I confess I’ve been feeling frustrated of late. I have had a couple of falls since the accident–grace is not my middle name–which set me back a bit each time and I am still finding certain activities difficult.

      But after several rainy dull grey days, the sun is shining–hooray!!– and that alone helps my spirits. Thank you for the idea about St. Anthony. I have prayed about finding things on more than occasion, although not to St. Anthony, and I certainly don’t look askance at the idea.

      Yes, I do count my blessing I jumped that deep, wide ditch on a big, heavy vehicle rather than something smaller and lighter or I might have damaged more than my poor tailbone. And judging by how my groceries, hat and other items were thrown all over the car’s interior, thank goodness I always wear my seatbelt. I had a wreck in college where the car hydroplaned and smashed into the side of a bridge in a heavy rain, and the lap belt (no shoulder restraints or air bags in those days) is what saved my life, I am convinced.

  5. Lack of sleep alone plays havoc with the brain cells. My sleeping habits were great until I started down the menopausal route; I would drop off straight away and sleep straight for eight hours. Now, grrrrrr. 😦 Difficulty sleeping is a recognized symptom of peri-menopause, and add into the mix the pain from your injury and FMS and it’s no wonder you’re struggling.
    Take care of yourself, angie.

    • Yeah, it’s kind of like several things are attacking me at once. 😉 Struggling–yep, I would have to say that’s what I feel I am doing.
      I remember in an abnormal psych class there was a section of the book on sleep deprivation revolving around a sleep study they did with a group of volunteers. They showed before photos of each, then photos of them a couple of days after and then at the end of the experiment. These nice, smiling, ordinary-looking people looked like demented serial killers or crazed zombies in their final photographs. Yep, it can do a number of you.

      Thanks, Mezz. 😀

      • Wow, I had never taken that idea of the strain showing on my face before this! I’ve had this stupid FMS for almost 20 years and the sleep disorder just seems to go along with the disease. No wonder I act like a walking zombie!!!!!!

  6. I probably look like a Zombie, too!!! There aren’t very many photos of me in existence as I’ve known since I was little that I’m not photogenic. One of the earliest photos of me with my family and a few family friends shows this tiny blonde girl trying to crawl out of the edge of the photo!

    I think that the poor concentration and the dodgy memory are the hardest parts of FMS to cope with – it’s just so bloody frustrating, as well as embarassing, isn’t it, Angie?

    Hang in there, kid. I’ll say a little prayer for all of us – that we find our missing goodies soon!

    • Frustrating, oh Yes! I remember the woman who was second in her graduating class in high school, graduated with honors from college–honestly, no dumb blonde–and I almost feel some days as if I had some of my poor mother’s mini-strokes and I just can’t compute. It’s like–what happened to my brain??

      I will pray for you and your mobile phone, too. 😉

      • Yeah…I always say that, if anyone ever finds a brain floating around out there, just send it home as it’s bound to be mine!

        And isn’t it annoying when people just think our forgetfulness is a sign of aging? Duh….I know a couple of teenagers with FMS, one male and one female, so there!

        It’s nice to be able to hang out with another ditsy blonde! (Of course, my blondeness is soooo fake – well, just think of my age!)

        • LOL Well, mine is “naturally platinum blonde” these days–white beneath the hair color. Considering mine was diagnosed when I was only 33 and hardly over the hill, I know it’s not simply aging. And yes, while it’s most commonly diagnosed in women in their 30s and 40s, men and women of any age can develop it. My late MIL also had FMS and it really established a closer bond between us. We had walked in each other’s shoes.

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