It doesn't happen often. In fact, I can't remember the last time it did - but then, why would I? Firmly in my 30s, there's a lot I don't remember. It used to only happen to people my parents' ages: you know, walking into another room to get/do something, only to completely forget as soon as you step over the threshold. It's a mystery. And, to my horror, it's happening to me more and more.
There's only one hour left of what, without a doubt, has been the longest Monday of my life (I needed a weekend to recover from my weekend) and we've got a creative review first thing tomorrow morning. Which means that I needed to write another bit of copy for a second poster option so the AD could lay it out before then. Ugh. No! Please, say it isn't so. All I wanted to spend the last hour of my day doing was staring blindly at various, easy-on-the-brain blogs and sites.
I forced my right hand to take hold of the mouse, hover over the folder, and click away to open the word doccie. (At this point, I wanted to cry.) Opened it and scrolled down to discover that I had written it already!!!!!!
I nearly pranced around the office doing the dance of joy (except that I've been wearing my scarf around my head for most of the day - cos I have a cold and I'm sitting under the frikkin' aircon and that gave the kids plenty to laugh about already.) (Also, I think I pulled a muscle in my leg doing stripper moves at a party on Friday night, so it'd be more like the hobble of joy - tequilla has once again been banned!)
Horrah! Now I have 45 mins to kill, without feeling guilty.
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