Checked Out

My jeans tumbled around for forty-five minutes in a dryer set on its highest setting.  They had never seen the inside of a dryer before.  That fateful moment two weeks ago wasn't supposed to happen.  This week, I tossed the same pair into the dryer.  Again.  For another forty-five minutes.  Breathing while wearing these jeans has officially become a multi-tasking activity.

On Sunday, I baked two loaves of banana bread.  When I released each cooled loaf from its respective pan, pools of liquid butter curiously formed along the bottom.  I checked the recipe, the one I had been using for years.  I picked up and stared at the measuring cup that I had just washed.  It was a 1/2-cup, not a full cup; I had used *half* the amount of flour the recipe called for.  Unable to bring myself to chuck the loaves entirely, I thought of creative ways that one might eat buttery banana bread pudding.  I came up empty.

My sister had a birthday last week.  I accidentally shipped her gift to a Connecticut address.  Thank you, Amazon, for saving my shipping history.  I didn't realize my mistake until four days later when the tracking information said her boots were last scanned in Norwalk.  Oops.

As a fairly detail-oriented individual, I find these recent events alarming.  What's happening to me?  I should be able to execute simple tasks like laundry, baking, and online purchases without major hiccups, right?  Apparently not.  My head's gone on vacation and didn't bother to tell me.  Let's hope that it didn't permanently relocate because honestly, this dazed and confused feeling isn't cute.