Whoops.

I am embarassingly forgetful. Sometimes. It's selective, which is the worst part. If I were just flat-out forgetful, sure, it might be excusable. Unfortunately, I can remember the exact time the R.M.S Titanic sank (2:20 am), Peter Furler's birthday (September 8th), and my first phone number, from a house I lived in for less than four years of my life. (565.7361) I also remember that I had a slight fever while staying at my aunt's house the night my grandpa died. I remember the way she smiled at me and patted me on the head. I remember that she gave me an extra strength tylenol and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to swallow it.

I, however, can't remember half of what Matt asks me to pick up at the grocery store, or when he asks me to remind him of something, or what food is in the refrigerator.

This morning, I didn't really have breakfast. Well, let me re=phrase that. I have breakfast, just about every morning, but it's usually just a mish-mash of whatever I find in the cupboard that looks appealing. (Today it was a little thing of sugar free orange jello) So at about 11, I started pondering lunch. I decided on a lettuce sammich. (Bread, just a tiny smidge of mayo, a pinch of salt and lots of lettuce) Well, silly me, come lunch time, it occurred to me that we'd had the lettuce for about a week. Sorry to say, I had to rip through about half of the head of lettuce before finding "usable" leaves. *sigh* I keep trying to get better about it, because I hate having food go to waste. I need to start making a list after I get groceries of what's in the fridge. One time I accidentally let a couple pounds of meat go bad. That one about killed me.

Tomorrow I leave to go to tournament. Nationals, in Canton. I'm a little freaked, because I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to bowl like 6 games in one day (I've never done more than 3), they're super strict about "when you're up, BE up!" (i.e, don't chit chat and hold people up, which is fine, but intimidating), and it's two nights away from home. I've never done "away from home" very well. That I ever moved out away from my parents is some scary mystery, because prior to Matt, I'd only ever been away from home for 5 days, and that was nearly unbearable. Technically, I leave tomorrow afternoon, am away all day Wednesday, and then come home Thursday afternoon. So ... 50 hours at the most. But I'm still sad and nervous. It'll be fun, I know that. It's just the anticipation of going.

I feel like crap today. I have recurring costochondritis, which is a fancy name for painful swelling in my upper rib cage. It's not something that happens too often, through it's flared up more frequently in the past couple years than in the couple prior. According to the web, it's not something that's normally supposed to recur, but I'm positive that's what it is, lucky me. At least it's my right shoulder and not my left.