A Mind Like a Steel Sieve Part II by Nancy L. Eady

 Back in September 2018, I wrote a column about having a mind like a steel sieve. https://writerswhokill.blogspot.com/2018/09/a-mind-like-steel-sieve-by-nancy-eady.html  It is also known as good old-fashioned absent-mindedness. I have it in spades. 

Today, Mark stopped at Buc-ee’s, a unique gas station chain, so I could run in and get each of us a drink. The square footage of a Buc-ee’s store is between 50,000 and 75,000 square feet, and its shelves are packed with everything from clothing to home décor to snacks to fresh baked goods, candy, and barbecue. The chances of me walking in a straight line through a Buc-ee’s to the drink machine and back are close to zero.  But I tried my best, until on my way towards the registers at the front of the store I came across a row of cute T-shirts flanked by a counter with fresh brisket. I dithered there until I remembered Mark was circling the parking lot waiting for me. So I resolutely turned my back on the T-shirts and brisket and walked briskly through the door to head to the car. Until I realized I hadn’t yet paid for my drinks and had to turn around and go back in to pay. I’m just lucky no one thought I was trying to pull a fast one. 

Reading during lunch can be a hazard also. Once at Cracker Barrel, I read my way from the table to my car and then drove back to the office before I realized I hadn’t paid for my lunch. I called the restaurant to let them know what I’d done, and they let me come back that afternoon after work to pay my bill. Which would be bad enough, but I had done the same thing about a year before at the Pizza Hut lunch buffet. There, I went back the next day, had the buffet again and then explained why I was paying twice. The waitress shrugged and told me that she saw me walk out the day before, but just figured I must have been extremely busy! 

Paying for my food at a drive-thru and driving off before I receive the food has happened enough that it's not an entirely unusual predicament to find myself in.  

And about a week ago, I left the office to go home and found my car still running. Apparently, I had forgotten to turn it off when I returned to the office for lunch. And yes, I have an alarm for when that happens but apparently it was too subtle to get my attention. I was lucky; no one stole the car and the engine temperature stayed steady, so I didn’t blow the engine. 

Tonight, I’m going to bed extra early in hopes to add a little more steel and lot less sieve to my mind. What absent-minded stories do you have to share?

Occupational Hazard: Absent-mindedness? by Nancy L. Eady

 The fellow authors I know are delightfully organized people.  I am not one of them.  I am not sure whether absent-mindedness is an occupational hazard for writers or just a character flaw on my part. But I have it in spades. 

My family is resigned to this trait. They are used to reminding me of the dinner choice they made in the six feet between the couch and the kitchen, traveling behind me to be sure doors are locked and speaking up before I miss the turn because I am thinking about something besides driving. 

Of course, they can’t help me when they’re not with me. Once I sat in the drive-through at Wendy’s for five minutes before I realized I was waiting behind a parked car in a parking spot, which explained why the line wasn’t moving. That’s what I get for trying to read while waiting in line.

More than once, I sat at a four-way stop sign waiting for the light to change, wondering why the people behind me were honking their horns

Another time, I swapped cars with my husband, and became quite annoyed when it wouldn’t start - only to realize that I had been pressing the air conditioning on/off button to start the car, instead of putting the key in the ignition. (My car back then had a push button start, while my husband’s was a traditional keyed start). At least I realized my mistake before I called for a wrecker.

I have left the house for one specific item from the grocery store and returned 30 minutes later with $100 worth of groceries, none of them the item I left for originally. I started wondering whether and where a murderer could hide a body in the grocery store while I was shopping.

I have found the peanut butter, and various other dry goods in the refrigerator; I have found the ice cream in the refrigerator and not the freezer; I even found the milk in the cupboard once or twice. It is so much more pleasant to be thinking through characterizations and plot while cleaning the kitchen than to pay attention to what I’m doing.

My latest escapade happened last week, when I was mentally outlining an essay I had to complete in the afternoon. Heading out to lunch, I walked to my car, opened it, and got in before I realized I was in someone else’s Ford Bronco Sport (the car my husband now drives and which I had driven over the weekend) rather than my own faithful baby Buick!

So what do you think? Is absent-mindedness an occupational hazard for writers? If not, is it a character trait you share? I’d love to know I’m not the only person out there!