Skip to content
Join our Newsletter
Join our Newsletter

Don't mind me

The mind works in mysterious ways When it works at all, that is. Recently, I've begun to wonder. About everything.

The mind works in mysterious ways

When it works at all, that is.

Recently, I've begun to wonder.

About everything.

How do you know when you're losing your mind?

Does the simple fact you notice the small, and not so small, peculiarities mean you are, in fact, still in control of most of your faculties?

Are those inconvenient peccadillos that crop up from time to time just God's way of saying you had too much fun in your youth?

Or, perhaps, are these little tricks of the mind proof of God's existence?

Is He just having a laugh at your expense?

If He is just pulling our collective leg, He seems to have mine in a vice grip.

And I suspect, the laughter is verging on hysterics.

It's getting to the point, I have considered doing the Stations of the Cross each morning, even though I'm not Catholic.

It has nothing to do with religion, just as a memory aid.

You know, spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch.

That reminder was never more important than last week after curling.

The routine never changes, only my ability to remember.

How hard is it to remember the order, off with the jacket, sweater and curling shoes.

On with streets shoes and winter jacket.

So how did I find myself with winter jacket and shoes securely fastened and ready for the trip to the car, only to discover I wasn't wearing pants?

Thank God for the Stations of the Cross.

You might think I wouldn't get too far without pants, that winter's icy blast would almost instantly jog my memory, but a more serious memory lapse has me wondering.

My car insurance expired last week and as I was standing in the insurance agent's office, shuffling my old papers and signing the cheque for new ones, I noticed a small envelope still mixed in with last year's insurance.

You know the kind.

That little envelope where they put the licence-plate sticker.

Funny I hadn't thrown that away last year, but better late than never.

It was about then, I realized there was something inside the enveloper.

Yup, last year's sticker.

Maybe it's time to start relying on my wife, good ol' whatshername, for help.

push icon
Be the first to read breaking stories. Enable push notifications on your device. Disable anytime.
No thanks