marginal

We came home on Saturday night after spending a day and a half visiting with my parents and my brother and his family who are in town from the west coast to a message from a spa near us. They were calling to confirm an appointment for me at noon on Saturday. Now, Brendan’s mom gave us a gift certificate to this particular salon for Christmas and I’ve been saving my half for a prenatal massage. Just recently I’ve started thinking about scheduling it, but I haven’t actually called. Of course they were closed by the time we got the message, but I called anyway to try and find out what was going on. After my mother-in-law confirmed she hadn’t made an appointment on my behalf I really started to wonder if I had actually called and just didn’t remember. I don’t have the best memory on any given day, but completely forgetting about making an appointment like this would have just sent me over the edge. It is entirely a different thing to walk into a room and forget why you are there or what it was I needed to tell Brendan. It would have been an all new type of forgetful for me. A scary one. Thankfully, it wasn’t the case — the salon had simply made some kind of mistake (although they weren’t sure exactly what it was either) and they apologized for the confusion. So I haven’t totally lost my mind.

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