Make the call. I can’t. What do you mean? I mean I can not.
You know those days where making a simple phone call is not possible. By “not possible” I mean that in your mind the necessary steps to look up a number, go to the phone, pick it up. dial the number and then speak loom so complicated and multi-layered it is beyond your ability.
|Dial me, you nitwit. What the heck is wrong with you?|
Other things that loomed beyond my ability:
Looking for the hairbrush
Finding and affixing postage stamps to envelopes
Cooking that chicken I bought when I could still do things
|Cook me, for godsakes!|
You either know what I'm talking about or you don't.
Yesterday an alien came into my house. He found the hairbrush, put my hair in a pony tail and drove me to town. Town is one block away.
What the heck is wrong with you?
The alien took me to the village hall and gave the clerk my car registration and got my beach sticker
He took me to the bank and not only turned in my rolled coins that have been sitting in my car for six months but also took out some cash for me to have as pocket money. The alien asked who rolled the coins. I confessed that once a year I become obsessively tidy and that includes rounding up the piles of change that collect and putting the coins into bank wrappers.
The alien took me to the Library and borrowed a Galaxy tablet for me to use for streaming videos. (Yes, our library now lets us borrow tablets.)
The alien took me to the gym and renewed my membership.
When we got home, the alien took up all the small rugs in front of all the doors and put them in the washing machine.
The alien refused to cook the chicken.