A New Month Won't Help My Brain

Just a black cat with his mouth open (he was going to yawn)

Pumpkins and black cats are easy to find. Especially a black cat.

In my mind I can hear the voice of Phil Rizzuto talking about Roger Maris.

The leaves are beginning to fall.

It's October 1 and, as we know, September was sort of a beast this year.

A fresh start, you say? That sounds great but not so fast. It just doesn't go like that. It's never that easy.

Let's go back to Sunday.

Sean and I had just left a birthday party when we decided to stop at a Dunkin Donuts in Prospect, CT.

My mother had left some money in her Dunkin Donuts account and, as I couldn't figure out how to transfer it off her phone, I decided to just exhaust what was left. I have to return the phone to Verizon within the next few days.

So I decided to grab a coffee and Sean wanted a donut and an orange juice.

We pulled into the parking lot, got out of the car, pulled on the door and looked at each other. The counter closed at 6 p.m.

But the drive-through was open, so we drove around to place the order. I asked for my coffee -- medium with cream and sugar -- while he asked for an orange juice and an old-fashioned donut.

"You could have asked for a different flavor," I said, knowing that their supply was likely limited.

"I felt rushed," he said, reminding me why I really don't like drive-through lanes.

The girl at the window -- nice, friendly -- handed me the orange juice and the donut. She took the money off the app and I owed a few dollars.

I fished the cash out as she collected my coffee. Upon paying her, she handed me the java and wished me a good night.

"Did I get the orange juice?" I asked her, glancing to my right, where it was firmly ensconced in Sean's hand.

"Yes," my 18-year-old snapped, like dealing with a senile old dolt (which he loves to tease me about). "You handed it to me."

"Sorry. Cut me a break. It's been a bad month."

It ended there and it would be easy to just go with me getting old as the reason for the faux-pas but it's one example of many where I've proven that I barely remember my name lately.

This has been most noticeable since Sep 4, I guess. Every day since then has included a chorus of wondering where my phone is or did I turn the stove off or needing to get something at the grocery store (when I already had it) or whatever.

My glasses? Can't find them (I'm currently wearing them). 

And so on.

I guess what I'm saying is that if I seem dumber or more testy and/or grumpier and more volcanic (than usual), I do apologize. 

I'm overwhelmed.

I'd offer an explanation about the myriad stress but I don't want to give excuses. It's on me to do better and be better.

Besides, we all have stress.

That being said, a new month won't magically flip the switch. I remain a work in progress.

Look, I forget things occasionally. That's going to happen, but my brain -- my memory -- has always been a strong selling point. Sure, I can still sit here and tell you why Vin Scully became the youngest World Series broadcaster in history (and will remain so): money.

I can tell you other ridiculous facts and notes with total recall.

I can tell you road nonsense that's utterly useless or something about music.

But I'm just making too many silly errors, like forgotten orange juice bottles and...

Wait. What was I saying?