Short Trip

When I was growing up, my mom used to say (unfortunately, with some frequency), “You are driving me crazy – and it’s a short trip.”  I never really understood what that meant until I was an adult, although I did enjoy driving her crazy.

               Recently, however, I’ve started noticing behaviors in myself that make me question if I might be going crazy.  Sadly, I have no teenager to blame this on, I just do really dumb, silly, nonsensical things.

               For example, I was preparing to make two casseroles for a church breakfast meal one evening.  I went out to our freezer (we actually have two in the garage) to get the bread I thought we had put there.  I checked the smaller freezer and saw nothing.  I checked the deep freeze and saw only the bags of tomato sauce we had stored there earlier in the week.

               I returned to the house and said to my husband, “I have to go to the store to get bread.” He replied, “What’s the matter with the bread in the freezer?”  When I told him there wasn’t any, he looked at me askance.  Following the look was a brief and rather insipid encounter that went something like this:

               Me:  No, there’s no bread out there

               Him:  Yes, I put a loaf in there

               Me:  We must have used it

               Him:  I’m pretty sure it’s there

This continued a few more times until he went out to the garage to check for himself.  I was outraged at this behavior.  Well, I would have been except he returned with the loaf of bread.  It was in the small freezer that I said had nothing in it.  I did look, I swear.

               Then two days later I was going to make turkey and cheese sandwiches.  I know I cannot open the cheese package without scissors, so I prepared myself to do that very thing.  I selected a package of cheese and got it out of the fridge.  Then I took the turkey out and placed it on the counter next to the cheese.  I went to get the scissors from the drawer, but they weren’t there!  They weren’t in the dishwasher, or the sink, or the junk drawer. 

               Someone had moved my scissors!  I would normally hold my husband responsible for this, but I’m beginning to realize that sometimes another person in the house moves things (we live alone, the two of us, so you know who else might be responsible).

               Sighing, I decided to make plain turkey sandwiches and put the cheese back. Sandwich-making complete, I returned the turkey package to the meat keeper, and guess what I found?  Yep, I had placed the scissors in the drawer.

               I’m losing it.  I really felt crazy that afternoon when I went to the grocer.  A man approached me in the aisle, saying “Hello” and smiling into my eyes.  I smiled back, returning a cheery “Hi” thinking, frantically, where do I know him from?  Church?  The store?

               He said, “How are you?” and I replied, “Just fine, and you?” as we continued to approach one another in the aisle.  As we drew together, I slowed down, expecting he’d stop for a chat.  Who was this guy??

               But he continued on, and I then noticed the Bluetooth earpiece he was wearing.  He wasn’t even talking to me!         

               I guess the good news is that if I am going crazy, it’s a short trip!