I forget things.

It might be genetic, it might be a bit of early dementia, it might be genetic early dementia. Who even knows. I’ve been suffering my entire life.

I will forget my keys, my wallet, my cell phone, my jacket, etc. My cousin Tom once suggested inserting a magnetic plate into my forearm so I can hang a bunch of essentials on me at all times. It would save me a lot of trouble.

On tour, I left my wallet in a Wendy’s bathroom and had to drive two hours there and two hours back in wintry Michigan all by myself to retrieve it.

This past winter, I left my favorite cream-colored cardigan behind at the Actor’s Equity building. It did not make it to the Lost & Found.

Last spring, I left a very important-to-me ring on the bench in the women’s locker room at the gym. I also left behind a bracelet and a watch on two separate subsequent occasions. I no longer take off my jewelry at the gym.

Last weekend, I left my brand new yellow scarf in a dressing room at the mall. I do not remember which store. I went back to the Gap to buy a new one and they were all gone.

Tonight, I rehearsed with my accompanist at a studio in midtown and boarded the train home around 8:30. On the subway, I realized that I didn’t have my glasses in hand. I assured myself I had put them in the case at the bottom of my bag but I was carrying a cup of tea and a magazine so I couldn’t check. Once I had my hands free, I opened up the glasses case and it was empty.

Cursing under my breath at the supermarket, I called up the studio and after reaching three separate voicemail systems, I left a message asking them to PLEASE PLEASE call me in the morning, I was in studio D, I left my eyeglasses there on the piano, pinkish purple, thanks, here is my number, PLEASE I hope you have my glasses!!!

I walked in the door to my apartment and set my huge bag of groceries on the kitchen floor.

I grasped my coat to begin to pull it off when something caught my eye.

“Please,” I sputtered to my roommate through peals of laughter. “Please take a look at what I have on right now.”

“Oooookay,” he said slowly.

“My glasses,” I said. “My glasses are hanging on my shirt.”

“Yes?”

“Guess who just left a message begging the people at the rehearsal studio to find her glasses and call her in the morning if they have them?”

“OH. MY. GOD.”

“Ohhhhh yes indeed.”

I am getting old before my time, kids and that is a fact.

SIGH.