Yesterday, I left my phone charger at work when I went home for the day.
Today, I forgot my badge, which is what gets me into the parking lot and the building. And when you forget your badge, you have to wear a visitor’s nametag all day long. And your coworkers make fun of you.
It’s just that kind of day for me. For awhile, I thought I’d forgotten my keys to my office at home because I couldn’t find them in the bottomless, messy pit that is my purse. After doing a little excavation, the keys were discovered—in the wrong part of my purse, of course—and I was saved the embarrassment of forgetting something else and having to beg someone to let me into my own office.
Yet somehow, I still feel like I’m forgetting something.
And should I be worried that I’ve forgotten so many things in such a short span of time?
Oh, well. A three-day weekend is coming.
Maybe that will help?
What’s my name? I forgot. . .