27 Feb

That is one adjective that has been used to describe me so many times.  Almost anyone who knows me has referred to me as absent-minded. And the truth is, I am always doing stuff without thinking. The line “I’m sorry, it’s just that I am so absent-minded”  has always been my excuse for when I do stupid things. This time that line might not cut it.

That lame apology has always been my excuse for when I do things like going to work wearing slippers instead of proper shoes, or putting the remote in the fridge.  Those are the laughable things. But I’ve made other careless mistakes that are much more serious like, leaving the stove on when I leave the house in the morning or leaving a burning candle while I go out to the grocery store. And there was even one time when I ran a red light because I was on the phone and the person I was talking to was giving me directions and then out of the blue I just started driving, completely mindless of the cars that were about to cross in front of me and the potentially awful accident I could have caused. It took longer than a few seconds, several angry stares and much more horn honking and cursing directed towards me, for my mind to fully register what could have happened. And when I did finally see it, what did I do?  I pulled over in a Burger King parking lot and started bawling like a baby. And another time,  as I was driving to the mall, I drove by a frozen lake. It all looked so pretty, I just kept looking at it and almost hit the railing of a bridge and drove directly into the aforementioned frozen lake. Obviously, that time also I was talking to someone on the phone. You see, I have a problem. I never really learn from my mistakes. If I do learn, it is after I’ve made the same mistake at least ten times. What else can I say to excuse this flaw of mine, but “I’m sorry, I got distracted” or the overly used, “I’m just absent-minded”?  I am just plain dumb is more like it.

Yesterday, once again, I made one of those mistakes. I am just so angry at myself. So disappointed in myself.  This time, my distraction might cost me a lot more than I care to admit. This time, as usual, it happened because I got distracted. Because I was talking on the phone. Because I don’t know what I was thinking. Because honestly, I probably wasn’t thinking.

So I ask, Life? Why are you such a bitch to me? Why do you throw three crappy things at me for every half good thing you give me? Is this a bad luck streak? Is it going to be over soon? At least, before I’m thirty? Should I write a list like the guy from My Name is Earl? Gee, all I wanted was one happy, carefree birthday to make it even for the last three ones that have been miserable? Is that too much to ask? Really?


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