My memory and thinking ability isn’t the best at this point in my life. And by ‘isn’t the best’, I really mean doesn’t exist at all. Siince I refuse to use the bathroom on a plane because I don’t want to pull down my slimming jeans and get stuck in there because everything is no longer contained, I will run to the ladies’ room many times before boarding. Now I get confused by the figures they use to distinguish between the women’s and men’s rooms. I am not wearing a skirt, I am wearing pants, just like the figure for the men’s room. I always head that way and then catch myself at the last minute, ummm, well, most of the time. When I finally entered the ladies’ room the last time I flew, I was the only one in there. When I opened the stall door, someone else was leaving their stall. We locked eyes, and then he said, “Oh my gosh, am I in the women’s room? I’m so sorry.” All of a sudden my flight response is kicking in, as I try to sort out all the thoughts racing through my brain. I am wondering now if I am in the men’s room and I should be a gracious hostess, just in case the table is turned when we figure out which one of us screwed up. After washing our hands, we head out the exit to see who was in the wrong place. All I can say is thank goodness this time it was him. Blog Of A Peri-Menopausal Woman....... When I Remember. ©2013 M. E. Hausman
Posted on: Wed, 12 Jun 2013 16:00:00 +0000
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