A Tale of Two Ailments

Ailment One: Losing My Mind 

We didn't have any food in the flat this morning. I kept meaning to 'nip down to the shop' (American English translation: 'pop out to the store'),  but I got caught up in work and the thought of putting shoes on seemed like an enormous effort.

So, I kept working, staying as still as possible to conserve my energy and ignoring the deafening growls of my stomach. It wasn't until 1pm that I finally made the ten minute walk up to Sainsbury's.

I giddily grabbed an almond croissant from the bakery. STILL WARM. Couldn't believe my luck. Thinking ahead, I grabbed lunch stuff and dinner stuff - what a savvy shopper I am.

Satisfied, I hit up the self-scanner (human interaction? Nein, danke.) and successfully made it to the payment step without a single 'unexpected item in bagging area' taunt. 

Image by Jay Goody via Flickr

'Finish and Pay' - yep!
'Pay with Card' - yep!
'Insert card into the card reader' - you got it!

'Insert your pin number' - um, hmmm.

Huh.

Let me see.

Nope. Don't know it. I know the numbers, but only three of them and I forget the order. How can this be? I've had the pin for four years and I use the card nearly every day.

I had a go at guessing the pin, until the machine told me it'd had enough of my foolery. Tail between my legs, I went over to the human cashier and spilled the beans. I explained that my mind had gone blank and asked if I could put my groceries behind the till while I ran home to get my other card. The man gave me a nice 'it happens more than you think, kiddo' look and said 'of course.'

What's the moral of this story? No, I am asking you. I really don't know what to think! Am I losing my mind? Was this a bizarre result of my malnourished morning? I'm still not quite sure of my pin. I think I know it now, but the events of earlier today really knocked my confidence. 

Aliment Two: Beard Eye

In addition to my mental illness, I am suffering from a bad case of beard eye. What's beard eye? It's when your boyfriend's beard scratches the surface of your eye. Not the lid! The actual eyeball.

Little has been said about the dangers of 'dancing cheek to cheek' with a tall, whisker-faced man. Yet this morning my right eye got a beardfull, and it's still stinging now - 10 hours later!

Five o'clock shadow? More like five o'clock shad - OW!

Best,
Margie