I have accepted the fact that no matter how many Thank You notes I write, my handwriting has gone to shit. I spend too much time tapping away at a keyboard and not enough time wielding the mighty pen. Since I'm conscious of the deterioration, I write more slowly if anyone other than me is expected to read it.
I no longer have phone numbers memorized. Before the memory function was a standard feature in phones, you had to actually REMEMBER the number or fumble through an address book. [Digression: My Grammy had one of those AWESOME telephone lists where you slid the pointer down to the appropriate letter and then pushed the button to magically reveal the right page. Looked like this:
I'm not sure if I loved this because it reminded me of the game Mystery Date (where you turned the door knob to reveal a boy!), but it was one of my favorite things to play with at Grammy's house.] With cell phones and memory dial, I can barely remember my VoIP number. That's got to be contributing to brain cell death.
Final and most damning evidence? On Sunday, I was UNABLE to transport ice cube trays to the freezer without sloshing half the contents on the floor. I remember using ice cube trays. In fact, I used them well after most of my friends had moved to automatic ice-makers. So, it has probably only been about six years since I last traversed the 2 feet between sink and freezer. I had even pre-opened the freezer door and cleared a shelf, but to no avail. So there I was with coffee splattered all over the floor, freezer door and front of the refrigerator. Because I only went to the dollar store to buy ice cube trays so I could make espresso cubes for my iced americanos.
Tell all your single friends, I used to have mad skillz.
XO, JamieSmitten
1 comment:
Ok, so my handwriting has always looked like that of an angry surgeon, but I can still dial a telephone number twice and remember it for years thereafter. Not so hot with the ice cube trays, but then I really don't use much ice these days.
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