The Fog

Regular readers will know I was bewildered by my own keys a few month's ago and at least now I know why - being pregnant will do that to you. As it is, I'm now experiencing what I can only describe as my own weather pattern, mostly manifesting itself as an 'hormonal fog'. I'm relating it to pregnancy but again it could be another sign that old age is settling in for the duration.
This week it has exhibited itself in several delightful ways:

• COMPLETELY forgetting several conversations that myself and Dr G have had. Now they were a few month's ago but I'd be hard-pressed to say I was even in the room with him when we talked about it. You can imagine how delighted he was by that.


• Striding purposely upstairs to do something important, but losing the plot as soon as I reach the landing. Not just 'what was I wanting?' more 'why am I here again?'.


• Mentioning that we'd do make purple porridge to Madam then wondering why she was upset when I presented her with a bowl of porridge with blueberries, not purple porridge. I made her cry! It's true, I'm a crummy mummy. More on that later.


• Writing things down on a to do list (sensible) then losing the list (stupid!).

Safe to say it's nowhere near as bad as 'The Fog' (original book by James Herbert for those to remember him). I don't want to murder anyone - well, not yet anyway. Well, okay, not often. Though I did hear about a friend of a friend who's hormones turned her really psychotic and she accused all and sundry of sleeping with her husband. Pregnancy is such a delight.

Anyway, the wonderful She suggested a solution: how about a notepad and a pen on a string round my neck. When something is important, I can then write it down immediately and won't lose the note. Only problem is, I'd look like a mad old lady, like the one I used to see in London. So what's better - the hormonal fog or the old mad bag lady look?

Off to - oh god - I do know this, something to do with water...
Lucy