Forgett…. wait, what was I saying?

So I lost my car. Yup that’s right. Lost it. Not visible, noticeable or present. Not there. Lost.

There will some of you that are reading that thinking ‘hmm that’s understandable I do that all the time in big busy shopping centre car parks or airports’. Great. That’s really great for them. But I was at home, went to get into my car to drive to a school where I had picked up a day’s relief work and no car. Gone vanished. Not there. Lost.

It’s not a little car. It’s a big blue station wagon, so it was definitely not hiding amongst other cars. Just not there, as though someone had waved a magic wand, said a special word and made it disappear. Not there. Lost.

So after my vague concern escalated through mild and landing at major panic stations, I spoke to Husband about where HE thought the car might be. Those who know me will get just how ludicrous this is. See, Husband doesn’t drive. Doesn’t have his licence and loves walking everywhere. He would no more know where my car is at any given moment than know how to wear pantihose, g-string or a tutu properly. (although that does paint an amusing picture).

He suggested I retrace my steps. After swearing at him, “it’s not my bloody keys, it’s a car, not something I would just put down” etc, I did as he suggested, and realised I had left my car around the corner the day before when I stopped to have a coffee with friends and walked home, forgetting I’d even brought the car out in the first place.

24 hours, car forgotten and lost and unnoticed.

Fast forward one week and I’m having lunch with a friend. We talked about a bit of this and a bit of that as you do with friends, when she asked me how my younger sister was faring, at which point I promptly remembered that I was supposed to be at her work 10 minutes previously to collect her and take her home. I’d forgotten my little sister – what a terrible thing to do!

So last week I forgot my blog. Forgot I even had a blog, let alone the writing of a post. And now this post is supposed to be a funny witty tale of all the dippy forgetful things I’ve done over the last two weeks.

But I can’t.

I’ve forgotten what they are.

Author: thegiftedbear

I'm a 36 year old Australian who, in the last 8 years, has been coming to terms with the fact that I am Gifted, and exactly what this means. Contrary to very popular belief about gifted people, this does not mean I have my life sorted, in fact, quite the opposite. This blog is about the highs and lows that I experience in my journey as I discover what being gifted means to me. I believe in love, romance, happy endings and silver linings. I believe we are never given more than we can handle, and everyone has a story if you just take the time to listen. I believe there are no coincidences and we can define ourselves by the people in our lives. I love my family, they are, and always will be, priority number one. Studying at uni, completing a Masters Degree in Gifted Education, with the view of setting up a foundation advocating for children on a global level. "Ideal teachers are those who use themselves as bridges over which they invite their students to cross, then having facilitated their crossing, joyfully collapse, encouraging them to create bridges of their own." -- Nikos Kazantzakis

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