Advancing age and memory lapses

THIS really is embarrassing.

Really, really embarrassing.

Y’see a couple of Fridays ago this correspondent decided to drive to work. We can’t recall why (and there’s a pattern starting to develop here), for usually we enjoy a brisk stroll from Struggle Street to our place of employment. Maybe it was raining. Can’t recall. Anyway, we drove. To work

So we had a bit of a shock that afternoon when we arrived back at our shanty in Struggle Street. For we discovered our car was missing.

“Thieves,’’ we screamed, surprising a couple of neighbours.

“Damn those car thieves. Quick, call the police.’’

It was then we remembered that we’d driven to work that morning.

So we had to walk back and get it, when we finally worked out where we’d parked the thing. It was just another now worrying memory lapse this correspondent is dealing with.

Example two: Last Thursday night, as it our wont, we wandered (but didn’t drive) to the Manning Hostelry. The main reason for this was to put in our footy tips as well as to partake in vigorous debate, as is usually the case at the MH on a Thursday evening. So we debated vigorously enough. Then we were heading home from work the next afternoon (walking on this occasion), and started to think about the NRL match to be telecast that night (Penrith vs Warriors, we think). It was then we realised we’d forgotten to put our tips in the previous night. And that was the actual point of heading to the hostelry in the first case. Yet another worrying memory lapse. And in all the hundreds of years we’ve been in footy tipping contests, we’ve never forgotten to place our selections. As mentioned. It’s embarrassing.

Example three: Today’s column was supposed to be about the pile of sticks that’s congregated near the Martin Bridge. It’s been given a name (we’ve forgotten what it is). However, when we sat down to pen this piece, we couldn’t remember how we were going to attack the subject. So we had to write about our failing memory. Just one of the hazards of column writing, we suppose.

We decided to ask our editor, but couldn’t recall her name – grey haired lass, lives up near Wingham, (we think). Bell? Tanya Bell? Maybe we should ask another of a colleagues. When we remember who they are.

Turns out the pile of sticks has sunk, so it wouldn’t have been much of a topic anyhoo. 

A failing memory is just part of getting older, we suppose. 

Someone did tell us that. Wish we could remember who it was.

Maybe we need more exercise to clear our head and get our thought processes going again. We might do parkrun on Saturday morning.

Um, where is it held again?