Losing it

Well hello dear readers, long time no post. Sorry about that. I thought being retired would give me oodles of time for writing but somehow the days get filled up. Anyway it’s nice to be back on the blogosphere. I’ve missed so much I could have commented on – the saga over Brexit (but now it’s just too dispiriting), the fabulous football scene (though right now being a Man United fan is, well, bloody dispiriting too), that dipstick Danny Baker (but some redneck radio station will hire him no matter what I say – it’s got to be Talksport hasn’t it?). No I’ve missed all the big juicy and newsworthy story lines so I’ll just talk about myself for a change.

And it’s about losing it. Is this what getting old is all about? Losing the few marbles that are left rolling around up there? Sigh. I’ve developed this annoying trait; I remember something I’ve got to do, like take the dirty washing downstairs. I say to myself, don’t forget to take that laundry downstairs. Thirty seconds later, just as I’m reaching the bottom step of the stairs, I remember that I’m meant to have the washing basket in my hands but I’ve forgotten it. Arrrgh. I can remember my very first day of school but my very short term memory facility is just about fubar. It fails all the time and it’s driving me nuts so I write stuff down now – which may explain why I’ve no time for blogging. I’m too busy with my to do lists.

Then yesterday my mind had a real senior moment. I was having a shave. Now regular readers will know that I undertake a full head and face wet shave every morning. It’s a bit of a chore but I couldn’t face the day without doing it. And every day I do it the same way starting from just below the nose, then proceeding to do my whole face before moving on to the more delicate head shave routine most of which I have to do blind (and whilst I’m loathe to tempt fate, I’m delighted to tell you that it’s been months and months since I last sliced myself badly), starting from my forehead and working backwards. I’ve done it exactly like this everyday for nearly 15 years since I decided to go shaven-headed. I’m a creature of habit.

Now yesterday I was just shaving the very delicate and awkward-to-do area behind my left ear (usually the very last bit of my complete shave routine) when I did a bit of a gentle sweeping move and snagged on some tough little whiskers on my jawline. Oh, must have missed a bit I thought to myself. Then I looked a little more closely into the mirror and it became clear, even without my specs on, that whiskers were still covering the whole of my face. I had shaved my head without realising that I’d completely omitted to do my face first. I’d never ever done that before and it felt a little weird. Sigh. Another couple of marbles had disappeared clearly. Hey ho I thought and continued on to shave my face and give myself a thorough splash wash with clean hot water. Ah that felt good.

Two minutes later I found myself looking in the mirror, razor in hand, moving the triple blade beast across the top of my head….Eh? I’d only gone and applied shaving foam all over my head again and started shaving in a spontaneous muscle-memory routine having just finished shaving my face. Oh lord. My body’s working on auto-pilot whilst my brain’s gone to the seaside for the day.

I’m happy to report that today’s shave was back to normal and I haven’t completely forgotten how to do it. I guess that’s what counts as an achievement these days. I’m just off to try and find those missing marbles.

pp

 

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