This post will tell you how easy it is for the brain to do a somersault and come down on the wrong side of logic. It really gives you a turn when THAT happens.
First let me set the scene.
Imagine a fairly narrow road with bungalows on each side, each one having a small front garden and a driveway for parking cars. Then imagine the inconvenience when jobs have to be done and big wagons need to fill the road. Okay, I realise that’s not too bad, but when gas companies decide to replace the ancient gas pipes that run the length of the road, beneath the pavements on which we walk, it is utter chaos. Each house had a huge deep hole outside their drive inside which workmen replaced old pipes with sparkling new yellow ones, at least that was what I was told. However, the piccy I took shows that the only yellow pipe was a short one that joined one pipe to another! Meanwhile residents struggled to get cars off drives and onto the road. It wasn’t so much the holes that hindered us but the big barricades erected to prevent accidents and the huge wagons – see pictures below.
and there's more
|The driver of the fancy van gave me a smile|
But let me get back to the story.
We are a two-car family and our drive is wide enough to park cars side-by-side, that is, until the hole was dug and I had to get the car through a much smaller space. It was okay going out, but getting back in was a nightmare. I have scratches on the car to prove it. I am a confident driver but this almost threw me. The solution was for Joe to park as near to the house as possible which gave me more room to manoeuvre.
On the day in question I went on a simple shopping spree, i.e. quick visits to the butcher, the chemist, and the grocery store. On my return, I made a failed attempt to get on the drive. Well, no, that’s not strictly true… I did manage to park in front of Joe’s car. He’ll have to move back, I thought, as I went into the house. No problem, Joe came straight out, moved his car, and guided me round the barricade. Phew, what a relief. It was when I was getting out of the car that Joe asked me where my handbag and shopping was.
That’s when the brain did its acrobatic jump and memory loss took its place. I searched the car for the bags. Not there. I panicked. The bags must be in the store, I thought, those bags being the shopping and the handbag which contained money, credit cards, WI keys, and other valuable items. It meant I needed to retrace steps, or wheels, to find my treasures, desperately hoping I had dropped them in a store and some kind person handed them in. I felt sick with worry, I could feel perspiration on my brow; my hands were shaking but I had to get out there and find my belongings. I thought the worst, of course, imagining that the bags had dropped onto the floor and a passing thief had made off with them.
I was just about to drive off when I heard a voice. It was Joe, calling from his position by the front door, holding my handbag in his hand. You can imagine the relief. It left me feeling quite faint. Only then did I remember that I had gone into the house to get Joe to move his car. And I didn’t remember taking all the bags with me.
Is there any hope, I ask myself, or is this to start of a downwards slide?