Friday, August 26, 2011

talking trash

It is no secret that I am somewhat...scatterbrained. It's the way I'm built; I can't help it. It doesn't take much for me to get side tracked and - wait, that Russell dude from the Real Housewives of Orange County killed himself?

Hold on. Must research.

**** (muzak playing in your head)  ****

I'm back. Where was I? Oh right, scatterbrained.

My mind tends to wander and prevent me from focusing on whatever task is currently at hand. Over the years this has cost me in dearly in many ways. Examples?
  • Lost babysitting money that I JUST HAD IN MY HAND three seconds ago.
  • Purchasing at least 5 pairs of gloves every year, because I always lose them even know I KNOW FOR A FACT that I left them in the car seat, Hubs, I really did. Some homeless person probably broke in and took them. What would they need a GPS for?
  • Missed appointments with clients because my keys have decided to grow legs and scurry underneath the sofa, even though it is WITHOUT DOUBT that I haven't gone in that living room for the last three days. Really.
Anyways.

For the most part, I can keep these little mishaps under wraps. Yes Mom, I know I got paid babysitting money last night. No, I didn't LOSE it...I used it to, uh, buy tampons. So can I have some money for the movies?

Yes, Hubs, I know you asked me to go buy a new watch battery. And yes, I took the old battery with me in my wallet. In THIS EXACT POCKET. But when I got to the store, it was gone! What's that? Oh, you found it on the floor board of the car? How odd. My wallet must have a hole in it. Guess I'll have to get a new wallet.

I thought this problem would just magically go away someday, but frankly, the older I get, the more frequently these episodes occur.  And unfortunately, they're getting harder to hide.

Like this:

It's Wednesday. I've finished my second appointment for the day and have another one in an hour and a half. Not enough time to go home and not NEARLY enough time to go search the shoe rack at Nordstrom's. Damn.

Instead, I trek to the nearest coffee shop. The shop is fairly empty, save a few people furiously typing on their laptops or organizing their wedding planner book. I purchase a fruit smoothy, take up residence in a comfy booth and check Facebook schedule appointments for next week.

An hour later, I glance up from my computer and notice that quite a large number of people have arrived in the restaurant. A quick glance at my watch shows that I have 15 minutes to get to my next appointment with time to spare. Well, didn't I time this well?

Congratulating myself for getting so much done in such a small amount of time, I stand to gather all my stuff. And by stuff, I mean:
  • Laptop bag
  • iPad
  • Phone
  • Purse
  • Planner
  • Magazine
  • Notebook
  • Smoothie cup.
Needless to say my hands are full. In my right hand, I carefully balance my notebook and iPad. Hanging on my right arm are my laptop bag and purse (which, incidentally, weigh a minimum of four pounds. Each).

With my free left hand, I pick up the smoothie cup and my phone. I just need to toss the cup in the trash, and I'm good to go.

This is where my scatterbrain syndrome takes over. As I walk to the trash, this happens.

Okay, so, trash can first. Throw away smoothie cup, get keys out of the left pocket of my purse and- HOLY COW that girl's dress is cute. Is that mustard yellow or more of a canary? Her boobs are smaller than mine; I don't think I can pull that low cut look off. Plus my arms would look jiggly. When I get home tonight I'm going to start doing push-ups. For real. Then I'm going to cut out sweets. I read that article the other day that said-

"Excuse me, Miss," a voice interrupts my list of resolutions. I'm now standing in front of the trash can totally blocking a guy from getting to his booth.

Embarrassed, I smile and shrug, "Oh, so sorry about that. Just need to throw this away," I hold the smoothie cup up for him to see and gracefully aim it over the trash can.

And then I drop my phone in the trash instead of the cup.

Jay. Zus.

What am I supposed to do? This is not a normal trash can. This is a trash can with a GIGANTIC wood enclosure around it that's covered in ranch dressing, cream cheese and balsamic vinaigrette.

I know I have to act fast before someone comes over and dumps their un-eaten tomato basil soul in the bin. A minimum of ten pairs of eyes eagerly watch me as I flag down an employee. My audience is hoping I have a total melt down. They might just get to see one.

"Can I help you ma'am?" a young girl with a brown ponytail and high cheekbones asks.

"Yes, please," I say in my most unconvincing "Nothing is Wrong, I Can Totally Handle This" voice. "See, I dropped my phone in the trash instead of this cup. Haha! I'm sure that happens all the time."

Silence.

"So anyway, it's too far down in the trash for me to grab it. Can we take the trash out of the bin thingy and I'll get it that way?"

Ponytail Girl is trying not to laugh, I know it. She's also hoping her bagel friend is recording this whole thing for You Tube so she can label it #CoffeeeShopFail and it'll get 31,000 hits by the time the dinner crowd comes in.

"Sure," she says sweetly, reaching for trash bin. "You just open this here, and pull out the can. There it is, right on top."

Quickly I grab the Blackberry from its perch on a Styrofoam sandwich container and brush off the bagel crumbs.

"Guess this'll teach me not to try and multi-task, huh?" I joke.

"Well, at least you dropped it in a trash can and not a toilet, right?" she offers.

I decide not to tell her I did that a few years ago. Twice.