I shouldn’t be allowed out, which is something I have said more than once. Quite recently I couldn’t seem to get anything right. I would like to think I could blame it on the weather, or going shopping too early in the day, but that would only be making excuses. It’s the brain, you see. The older I get the more confused I get. Most times I’m okay but occasionally I get an off day. How’s this for starters?
It was Friday and that means get to the shops early or there would be no parking space and no easy access to the local supermarket. Friday is the worst day of the week to go shopping. It’s the day when everyone has the same idea, and all those people have cars. I usually manage to avoid Fridays, but not this week.
None of the above has anything to do with what is to follow, it was all down to my addled brain.
First of all I went into the chemist to buy an ordinary roll of sticky tape – the sort you put on wound dressings. No, I hadn’t got a wound, what I had got was two rings that kept sliding round the finger in the most irritating way. To solve that little problem I put a discreet piece of sticky tape round the two shanks, which fills in the gap between ring and finger and stops everything from sliding round. Yes, I know there are little clips designed for this purpose. I have some - they don't work.
As you can imagine a roll of sticky tape can last years but mine was almost gone. I hunted for ages along the pharmacy shelves but couldn’t find what I wanted. I could find other sorts of dressings for cuts and other wounds but not the simple roll that I wanted, minus the dressing. So I asked the pharmacist, a very obliging young lady, who went straight to the shelf I had been searching and plucked out a box of – yes, sticky tape. I felt such a fool but resolved to shake off that feeling.
Back to the counter to pay for my sticky tape where the pharmacist’s assistant was sorting out prescriptions. Now mine are dealt with on a monthly basis and I am texted when ready. Brilliant system! Goodness knows what made me mention my prescription. I stupidly remarked that mine would be ready before long. Anxious to please, and before I could stop her, the assistant rushed off to the computer to check. I tried again to stop her but she was deaf to my efforts. Another month, she told me, which of course I knew. What else can you do but smile like an idiot when things don’t go the way you intend them to go.
The pharmacy is one that uses loyalty cards so in my total confusion I pulled the wrong one from my purse. I was beginning to wish I’d stayed in bed but I endeavoured to leave the store in ladylike fashion rather than like an old woman who shouldn’t be allowed out.
Next stop, the local supermarket. I wanted half a dozen large eggs. I didn’t want a dozen, of which there were plenty, I wanted half that amount. No joy, all the eggs in half-dozen boxes were medium size. I queried this at the cash-out and was told they never have large eggs in half-dozen size boxes. Excuse me? What the hell have I been buying all these years? By this time I'd had enough. I just wanted to go home.
Next stop, the bank, where I needed to get money from the cash machine. Would you believe I got it without any problem? BUT as I proudly stuffed notes in my wallet, a load of coins fell to the floor. I didn’t realise the zip of the loose change purse was open. With difficulty I spent a good five minutes picking up coins and hoping nobody would snatch a few before I could rescue them.
I only had one more job to do and that was to post a letter. I’ll stop at the corner shop, I thought, as I got in the car. Ten minutes later I arrived home and was about to climb out of the car when I spotted the letter on the passenger seat.
As already stated, some days I shouldn’t be allowed out.