Just call me Dory.

Having the attention span of a flea and the memory of a goldfish makes life perpetually interesting.  You're always trying new things and meeting new people even though you've tried those things and met those people before. 

Having a life that is constantly new and exciting is a good thing, however losing interest half-way through cleaning out the office is not.  As I speak a veritable Kilimanjaro of scrap paper is groaning at what was once the door to my office.  It now looks like something you would see on A Current Affair.

Reporter:  "It is believed the woman, only known as Charlotte, may in fact have become the victim of a paper avalanche....."


Cut to footage of hard-hatted rescue crews using bob-cats and graders to clear a path to the base of the paper mountain - legions of fans and family members are wailing and gnashing their teeth in grief.


Reporter: "Canadian mounties are en-route to the scene, but emergency services say it is unlikely Ms Charlotte has survived."

(Humphrey, meanwhile, has sold the children and is spending my life insurance at the TAB).

My Bootcamp Bitch friend,  Sal, has diagnosed me as having autism.   Since she did the autism workshop last Thursday she has diagnosed at least three friends, her son, her butcher, the lady who cleans the classrooms and herself as having autism, or at the very least, Aspergers.  Sal is a generous soul and kindly gives her diagnoses free of charge - in fact you don't even have to ask her for a consult - she'll just tell you wherever you may be.  (I was at a party in the middle of watching another friend do an interpretive dance whilst singing Sexual Healing with a speech impediment).

Anyway this ADHD/Autism/Premature Dementia does mean that somtimes one is interpreted as being a rude person.

Example A:
Lady with big hair and red fingernails is gesticulating wildly at Charlotte whilst going through Checkout 2.

Charlotte waves back, a little self consciously, after checking that the lady isn't in fact waving to someone behind her.

Big-haired lady enthusiastically bounds over to Charlotte.

"Hiiii yah Charlotte. Fancy seeing you here!"

Charlotte smiles "Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii" (mentally rifling through files, not a school teacher, not at gym, not at the dress shop......who? who? who? dammit!)

"So, have you thought about what we talked about the other day.....you still keen?"

"Um yeah, sure." (Scintillating conversationalist that Charlotte is).

"Great, well I'll give you a call and perhaps we can meet for lunch to talk some more."

And with that big hair lady pats Charlotte's arm and flounces off to the car park.

Charlotte thinks to herself  "whoever the frig that was must think I'm a flippin' mouth-breather."

There was no phone call.  That actually didn't bother me, because by the time I'd unloaded my groceries I'd forgotten about meeting big haired lady.....until there was a knock at the door.

"Hey Charlotte!" It's the big-haired lady.

"Heeeeeyyyyy."

"Mind if I come in, probably best we do this at the kitchen table....." and big-haired lady pushes past me on a cloud of Red Door and plonks herself on a chair and what looks like contracts (?) on the table.

"Um, would you like a cup of tea? Coffee?"  (Mum taught me to always be hospitable to visitors, be they the postman or a highway robber).

"No thanks Luv. I've actually got another client in 15 minutes so if it's all the same to you we'll just get this finalised and I'll be off."  Big haired lady smiles and I notice she has thick white veneers on her teeth making her look less human and more equine.

My eyes widen in recognition.....oh fuck. fucketty fuck fuck fuck!
It's Mora....or Moira...the "We'll save you thousands on energy bills if you let us paint your roof with this rubbery tar sun deflector stuff"  lady.

I didn't sign the contracts and I've forgotten exactly how I extricated myself from the situation, but I do remember Mora or Moira pursed her red lips and flounced a bit more.  Mora probably thought I was less rude and more dumber than a hammer.

More than once I've reacted to a happy greeting with a glazed nay, blank, expression and then discovered that I sat next to the person during a week-long conference or our children have had X number of play dates.
Perhaps I am rude.
Perhaps I just have a single digit IQ.
But if I do ever greet you blankly I apologise.  Please be as kind to me as you would any dumb animal.
I'm truly harmless.

Now, where was I?