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Terri Simon

Manic or maniac

Let me just start by saying I’ve had a good share of birthdays. While I will be eternally grateful for every birthday I have, many of you will understand what I’m about to describe. I refer to them as my “manic mornings,” but in reality, I think these manic mornings have more to do with a manic memory, which translates to lots of birthdays. See what you think ...

After finally rolling out of bed, I finish my morning routine, make my bed and head down the stairs. Inevitably I begin thinking ... Did I turn off the nightlight in the bathroom? I think I did, but I’m not 100 percent certain ... Back up the stairs, and yes, the nightlight has been turned off. I head back downstairs to continue my morning routine. But wait a minute ... Did I turn off the ceiling fans or didn’t I? I’m sure I did, but I better go check. Back up the stairs, and yes, the ceiling fans are off.

Maybe there’s time for a bite of breakfast and a cup of coffee on the deck — or maybe not. I just like to try to take a breath or two before the chaos of the day begins. The cat is often overly loving at this point in the day, and as I attempt to scurry around the kitchen, she intertwines repeatedly around my legs in an attempt to get my attention until I realize her “love” is masked by a nearly empty food bowl. Her love for me pales to her love for Purina Cat Chow.

Multi-tasking at this stage of the game is necessary, as I begin to throw things into my purse — keys, cell phone, a yogurt or a snack for work, envelopes I need to mail, etc. You understand — another typical morning. I pour a cup of coffee for the road, give the cat a treat, and head out the door, locking it behind me.

But wait a minute ... did I ever feed the cat? Unlocking the door and heading back into the kitchen ... yes, of course, I fed her. Out the door again and almost to the garage ... Did I unplug the coffee pot? (I have this thing about keeping it unplugged when I’m not using it.) Back inside to check the coffee pot, and it is unplugged. Now where did I put my keys? I look for a frantic minute before I realize they’re in my hand. Duh! By this time, the cat wants another treat, and the clock is ticking toward my countdown to work.

At this point, I unlock the garage door, and throw my stuff into the front seat. I push the garage door opener, and as I’m backing out, I realize my cup of coffee is sitting on top of the file cabinet in my garage. I get out to retrieve it, jump back in the car and back out the drive, only to question whether I actually locked the garage door or not. Surely I did ... or did I? I pull back in the drive, and yes, of course I locked the door. I back out of the driveway again, turn the corner and head down the street to get to the highway that takes me work.

Wait a minute ... did I put the garage door down. I don’t remember pushing the button on the garage door opener, but surely I did ... or did I? I try to remember, but it’s all a blur. Do I go back or don’t I? Of course I don’t want my garage door open all day long, so I take a quick left and round the block. As I’m driving past my house to check on the garage door, I see my neighbor backing out of his drive, also headed to work, and we both beep our horns and wave. I turn the corner and head down the street to get to the highway that takes me to work, and I realize in the wake of waving good morning to my neighbor, I have forgotten to check the garage door again. I take another quick left and round the block, only to realize the garage door is down ...

If any of this sounds familiar, please let me know. Am I losing my memory? Am I getting old? Am I too preoccupied? Or maybe it’s just another manic morning ...

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