Dementia Chronology, Part I

This morning, as usual, I poured my first cup of coffee and sat down at my desk to read the news, check e-mail, and such.  Ordinarily, I'd be dressed and on my way to work by now, but I'm home this morning, waiting on a plumber to show up, and so I sat here a little longer than usual, doing stuff I don't normally have time to do this time of day (like writing blog entries). 

About an hour ago, my growling stomach pushed me to the kitchen to find something to eat.  I wanted eggs.  On my way past the stove, I snatched up the egg skillet, still slightly crusty from yesterday's egg, and took it to the sink to wash it.  There were a few dishes in the sink.  I decided that I might as well put them in the dishwasher.  I opened the dishwasher.  It was half full of clean dishes.  I sighed, and began to unload the clean dishes so that I could put in the dirty ones. 

There were two empty Mason jars in the dishwasher.  The place where I keep Mason jars, both full ones and empty ones, is in another room, so I set the jars on the counter, intending to put them where they belong when I finished putting away the dishes. 

While I was loading the dirty dishes, a fly lit on the dishwasher door.  I threw a quick glance toward the fly-swatter spot; it wasn't there, nor was it in any of the other places that I find it when it's not where it's supposed to be.  As I hate flies with a passion that exceeds normality, I stopped what I was doing to look for the fly-swatter. 

He was a bold fly, I'll give him that.  My moving around the kitchen did not startle him one bit, and he sat right where he was while I scooted chairs and opened drawers.  With the fly-swatter missing in action, I had to find something else with which to smack him.  There was some mail on the kitchen table.  I fished around in the pile until I found an envelope with just enough heft for a quick blow.  Miraculously, I got him with the first whack.  I tossed the envelope into the garbage can, fly and all, and went back to the sink to wash my hands and finish loading the dishwasher. 

There sat the two Mason jars.  I grabbed them up and took them to the cabinet.  How could it be that there was no place to set them, considering that I'd just taken them out two days ago and hadn't put anything else in their places?  I set them on the floor while I re-arranged the jars in the cabinet to make room for them.  When they were safely inside, I went back to the kitchen, closed the dishwasher, rinsed out the sink, grabbed up the clean egg skillet, and shoved it in the pots-and-pans cabinet.

While I had been doing all of these things, a sub-story had been running in my background thoughts, a pondering of those two berry-like things I'd seen on the potato plants yesterday.  I'd Googled them after coming in from the garden, (they are seeds, by the way) but by that time I'd been so tired that I hadn't really absorbed much of what I'd read.  I decided to have another look at the page I'd pulled up last night. 

As I waited for the page to load, my stomach growled again.

I want eggs. 

Wish me better luck, this time.