Of Mice and Me

I am so angry right now that I could spit a bullet with enough force to give a mouse a concussion! (Hey, that could be the title of a darling children’s book: “If You Give a Mouse a Concussion”) If you are wondering why I am so mad, I’ll share. But I warn you, it won’t be pretty.

My emotions are riled up because of my brain, or lack-of. It is malfunctioning in a most obnoxious way. You see, I have a memory that stinks as bad as raw chicken left in a hot car for two weeks (which, considering my current state of memory, is a real possibility). I have been complaining about this (my memory, not the funny stench in my car) to family and friends. They stare at me with that “now, now” expression and attempt to console me with variants of the same theme: either I am too stressed or too close to menopause.

Now that’s all fine and good if I were a stay-at-home mom. My children are resilient and make a decent attempt to forgive. Let’s just say (hypothetically speaking of course) that I forget to pay the lunch money bill and my kids go day after day without getting lunch, or I forget to pick my kids up from soccer, or I forget my child’s birthday. These things make me feel awful and sad, but at least they can be sorted out later in their life if the kids seek counseling. This is after all, what therapists are for: to undo parental damage.

But the problem is that I have chosen a profession wherein a lapse in memory, however brief, could KILL PEOPLE! Right at this moment, I can’t remember a specific example of how I could do it exactly, but trust me, there are ample ways – some that won't even be discovered until I start my practice.

I know it takes guts to divulge something this personal and this painful. So let’s just keep this between you and me. Luckily, the internet is just a cozy little place between friends. I wouldn’t want word of this spreading to any of my potential patients.

Now, I like to think of myself as a cup half-full kind of a gal. So let’s look at the upside of a really bad memory. I only need 1 or 2 movies in my DVD collection. I could eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches every single day and not even care. It is of great benefit to my friends, especially ____, who tell the same stories over and over again. If I get sued for malpractice, I won't remember who it was that sued me and will treat them with the same cordiality I treat everyone. Such forgiveness should get me brownie points in heaven.

But do the benefits outweigh the risk? I’m beginning to think that for the safety and security of mankind, I should just go work at Barnes & Noble. Or maybe become a writer from home. Perhaps I could be an author of children's literature. I once thought of a title for a book…something about a little mouse. If only I could remember what it was….