The day my brain let me down…again…

Let’s see. Can I think back over my morning and find some aberration that explains what happened at lunch? Something, anything, that explains why my brain disconnected so spectacularly?

I had my usual mini-carafe of coffee to start the day. It’s not quite a carafe, but almost. It’s 16 ounces of bright red ceramic, sturdy, comforting, caffeinated wonder perfection. A little cream, a little sweetener, some freshly ground Peruvian beans, a measured quantity of hot water…bliss. You could almost hear the crackling of my awakening middle-aged neurons.

At work, I had my customary second cup, not quite as large – I don’t want to be accused of excess which surely 32 full ounces of coffee could be considered excessive. No one needs to know that most days I’m fully alright with excessive. I like a full load of caffeine to start my day.

After the second cup, unless I’ve been losing scads of sleep and really, truly, and desperately need a third cup, I switch to my favourite hazelnut-flavoured decaf. I know. Decaf. Why bother? Because unless I’m in the mood to lose scads of sleep…well, decaf is a smart choice.

It was a busy morning. I had a lot on my plate and my coffee-fueled brain was working well. Nothing out of the ordinary was happening. I worked on contracts, answered a myriad of phone calls, chatted with a walk-in with questions, and started the photo-editing necessary for a memorial card I needed to get ready to proof. Pretty much a normal morning at work.

Lunchtime rolled around and I needed to run some errands. My brain still seemed to be working well. I managed to negotiate an interaction with an insurance agent. We concluded our business with some humourous banter, success on all fronts.

So you can understand why I was feeling pretty confident about my overall performance.

I walked out of the insurance office and out to my car. It’s a lovely little car which uses a proximity key. That means I only need to have the key near my car and place my hand in just the right spot on the handle to open the locked door. It’s practically magical but every now and again, the key must slide to a hidden spot in my purse where it’s magical powers are blocked and I have to pull the key fob out and use the button on it to unlock the door.

That’s what happened. I pulled on the handle and…nothing. I pulled again, still nothing. Frustrated I pulled a third time, a little more vigorously, and still nothing. Annoyed because I was losing precious time from my lunch break, I dug in my purse searching for the key. I pulled it free, barely avoiding dumping the contents of my purse on the ground. I pushed the unlock button…and, you guessed it, nothing.

Now I’m really annoyed and just to prove it I jerked on the handle a few more times while simultaneously giving it some verbal “encouragement”.

This is when my brain started to catch up to my twitching hand muscles. I’m suddenly realizing that there is a different air freshener hanging from the mirror. Hmmm…doesn’t look like the one in my car. Aaannndddd just like that the reality dawns on me that I am trying really hard to get into a car that is not mine.

Which is when I start to glance furtively around to see if anyone is watching me.

So I do what anyone else would do.

I gave a barely intelligible sound of exclamation like I have suddenly realized I’ve forgotten something urgent. I glanced at an invisible watch on my wrist and then vaguely down the street. And just in case someone was watching me, I went around behind the car, behind the truck parked beside the car, and sidled up to my own car, quickly got into my unlocked car (because the fob works from quite a distance), and drove away.

Good grief.

I swear, if that car had been unlocked, I would have been sitting inside it trying to figure out why it wouldn’t start.

I know I’m not alone. I know that every single one of us has had a moment like that. That moment where you realize there’s a dryer sheet stuck to the back of your blouse. That moment where you look down and realize you put on your good clothes to go to town but still wore your muddy gumboots. That moment when you figure out why your thanksgiving dinner sweet potato is shiny because you forgot to take off the saran wrap after microwaving it because sweet potatoes take FOREVER to bake and you forgot to put it in in time so you nuked it first and then put it in the oven to finish off.

Ok, more than one of those might be examples from my life.

Ok, all of those are examples from my life.

My point is that we all do thoughtless, silly things from time to time. All of us. Not one of us is perfect. We are in a word, human.

I don’t want to spend a lot of time talking about how uncharitable we can be toward others. I don’t want to spend time focusing on why we are so critical of each other’s imperfections and missteps. We all know it happens and we are probably all guilty of it from time to time.

What I hope is that the next time that criticizing mood is upon me, I will remember standing beside that car feeling foolish because I have been trying desperately to get into it and suddenly knowing with crystalline clarity that I am standing beside the wrong car. I hope that I will remember the time I had to peel crispy saran off a sweet potato because I baked it on. Seriously though, I looked at that potato and thought to myself, “Why is it so shiny?”

I hope I will find it in myself to push the criticism to the back and offer instead a little encouragement and kindness. Or do the really nice thing – bring up my inner Meryl Streep and act like I have seen absolutely nothing unusual or out of the ordinary. Let my eyes glaze over with the veil of mutual understanding and empathy because I’ve been there too, jerking on a door handle that wasn’t attached to my car. Glance down at my invisible wristwatch and like I’ve forgotten some important appointment, just turn and walk away.

I hope that’s what I’ll do for you and that’s what I hope you’ll do for me. That’d be nice.