Today was incredibly busy at work. I’m working under two coinciding February 1 deadlines, and there are a million and one things racing through my head about both projects at all times. Which is apparently crowding my brain and not allowing me to remember little things, like my keys and cell phone. Early this afternoon, I locked my keys in my office, having to ask the building’s operations director to let me back in with her master key. No biggie – right? Well, this afternoon, I packed my stuff to leave, got my umbrella, turned off the lights in my office, and got on the elevator with some colleagues, only to realize halfway down that I’d locked my keys in my office yet again. So I took the elevator back up, found another facilities person (I couldn’t let the same person know I’d been so pea-brained as to lock myself out twice in one day!), and went back in my office to get my keys. Thinking I was home free, I made a dash for the parking garage, got on the elevator there, got all the way up to the floor where I was parked, and realized my cell phone was on my desk. What the hell?
And I started thinking…..
Can Alzheimer’s start at thirty??? Maybe. Or maybe I’m having trouble concentrating on anything because of the sixty additional crunches I added to my strength-training routine last night and the subsequent distracting twinges in my abs that have pestered me throughout the day. Or maybe criss-cross abs (see past posts) really can mess you up – I know that nothing about that exercise feels right whatsoever – maybe those evil things are messin’ with my memory. Or maybe this exercise stuff I’ve been doing lately is turning me into one of those blockhead, not so bright gym rat guys. You know, the pretty boy type who stands around in a tank top and a sweatband, flexing in the mirror while pursing his lips and entirely overusing the word “rad,” who looks great to the ladies on first glance, but then they realize he’s kinda dense and does things like forget his keys and cellphone all the time, but never misses a protein shake, a workout, or a drinking night with his buddies. Oh crap – is that what I’m going to become as I get fit and reconstruct thirty? Or maybe I’m just getting too few calories and my brain is starving.
Or maybe it was just a crazy day at work, that previously would have led to my feeling the need to “reward” myself with a high-fat, high-calorie meal. Wow – maybe, I really have made some big changes, because doing that never even seriously entered my mind. Progress.