Are You Sure Today Is Monday?

One of my biggest fears about aging is losing my memory. I don't want to end up roaming around a house full of strangers who tell me I'm related to them. It would be embarrassing, and confusing to hear, "Uncle Alan, for the last time, I am not a drag queen, and this is not a gay bar!".

I used to have a pretty good memory, but over the last twenty years or so I have found that I tend to forget a few more things than I used to. I forget movies that I have just watched the week before, and I am horrible with peoples names. I seem to remember folks dogs names just fine, and often have to refer to my neighbors as, Fritzy's mommy, or that woman who walks Chase.

Saturday, a friend of mine brought over a bunch of old house paint for me to take, along with mine, to the hazardous waste collection site on Sunday. I had about fifty old paint cans I wanted to get rid of, and my friend had seven. Once a year they collect all the poisons, solvents, paint, and old batteries accumulating in peoples homes and sheds, at one place here in town. I offered to take all of my stuff and my neighbors stuff over there because he would be out of town Sunday. I don't know if this is an indication that my mind is going, but today, Monday, I now have fifty seven cans of old paint in my shed.