Forget-Me-Nows

I forget a lot of stuff. I'm constantly leaving phones, belts, wallets, and lunches at home. Although the lunch thing might be my subconscious mind telling me I make boring lunches and would much rather have a Cuban sandwich.

I've sort of accepted it, telling myself it's the price I pay for constantly have so much on my mind. I mean, you wouldn't yell at Albert Einstein to comb his hair, right? Or tell Isaac Newton to ....patch up his pantaloons or whatever they wore back then.

Like my fellow scientists (hey, library science is a science), the mundane world takes a backseat to my churning mind, which is busy postulating theorems and formulating equations. OK, I'm actually trying to remember the lyrics to Squirrel Bait's "Kid Dynamite" or trying to figure out the best time for a nap, but there's still a lot going on up there.

As stated before, at one point or another I've left just about everything I need at work at home, but I've been able to manage, even if I do have a long day of pulling my pants up because I forgot a belt or have to sacrifice my boring, healthy lunch for a Cuban sandwich.

But I never forgot my pants until this morning.

I was riding my bike for the first time since the Great Jacksonville Blizzard of 2014, and it felt good. Great, actually. I got to ride down a beautiful morning Riverwalk, and didn't even have too many problems with traffic. People were even using their signals!

I got to work early. Things were good.

Until I realized I didn't bring any pants.

Usually I have a whole spare outfit at work for just such an occasion. Just like the Mad Men on the TV. But I had taken everything home for cleaning, which I will never do again.

Crap, I couldn't ride all the way home just to come back to work. That's a whole hour. And I couldn't do that anyway, since I had to be at a senior center in 30 minutes. I was thinking that I might be able to pull it off, since I was wearing my bad weather biking pants, which are sort of like the parachute pants many of you remember from the '80s. If anyone noticed anything, I could just start breakdancing, hopefully leading to a little old lady rapping, which, of course, is comedy gold according to the movies.

I got the city car early and was able to rush home. Strangely, nobody at work noticed I was wearing parachute pants. My pants were exactly where I left them the night before, in a spot right under my messenger bag so I wouldn't forget them.

I didn't get to wow the old people with my breakdancing skills, but I learned an important lesson that morning, a lesson in organization and mindfulness - a reminder to always double check everything before leaving. Of course, I forgot that lesson 8 hours later as I left my phone at work, but I'm sure that I'll be more organized from now on.