The Forgetter Strikes Again

Two weeks ago, Jules came home from school with something he had made for me.

It was a bracelet, crafted from colorful fuzzy pipe cleaners and one metal-like leaf. The leaf gave the whole thing an elvish air. I loved it. I promised to wear it. I promised to wear it to work.

Well, as Jules as begun calling me, I am The Forgetter, a moniker I have earned, because dude. I forgot.

This morning I was getting dressed at around 6 a.m. for work. Jules woke up - he usually gets up at 6:30, so each morning, I miss saying goodbye to him when he's actually awake, because I have to leave by 6:15 at the very latest.. But this morning, he got up and started getting out of bed. I asked him, "Hey, why are you up so early?" He mumbled (eyes half closed still!), "I don't want you to forget..." and stumbled off into the living room. I didn't follow him right away because I was still putting on my bra, but Patrick went in there and turned the TV on for him. After I had a shirt on, I went to him and he got up from the couch and walked over to the little green side table we have, where the bracelet (actually, I think it looks like a wrist corsage) has been sitting.

He picked it up and walked back over to me. "You have to wear it to work today. You keep forgetting." And then he helped me put it on.

I wore it in the car for a while, but it was making driving difficult, so I took it off. Then, when I got to work, I had many things to carry: an apple, my coffee, a magazine: I didn't have a free hand, and I left it in the car. However, I went down to get it, and am now wearing it proudly. And when I told my coworkers the whole story, they all died.

The past and future (caught up in July)

So here we are in another July. It seems like this one came around much faster than it should have. I'm trying not to look at it negatively but there is only one day this month that really matters.

July 20.

Yesterday I put in a request to have that day off. The last place I want to be is at work on that day. Not here. Not with these people. On that day? The day she died.

Today my request was approved, and when the request popped up on my Outlook calendar, even though I typed up the request yesterday without feeling anything, I teared up a little at my desk before I clicked "accept."

Last night on my way bome, stuck in terrible traffic, I listened to "Once in a Lifetime" by the Talking Heads. I wondered if my mother had ever heard that song. Probably - my older brother was a fan of theirs and I think still living at home when that album came out. I wondered if she liked it.

I'm not sure what I'm going to do that day. I was thinking of spa day, or at least a massage. Or maybe a movie. Patrick isn't taking the day off, but doesn't think I should be alone. Maybe I'll visit a friend. Maybe I'll see if Patty is available, and ask if she wants to play duets all day. I mean, literally ALL DAY. She used to love marathon duet dates - she has way more stamina for it than I do. But what else helps me more than making music?

(Well. Shopping is up there, but I don't think Patrick would like that.)

It's in less than two weeks. I feel it coming, like a truck.