A few days ago, while putting on my watch, I suddenly realized I didn’t know how to work its clasp anymore. A huge question mark floated above my head (it was actually dangling on a very thin, almost invisible wire — I don’t go in for fancy computer-generated effects) for the hour it took me to figure it out. Once the watch was secured on my wrist (that’s where I’m wearing it these days), I promptly forgot.
That same day, I was confronted with the word “miniseries” (it came out of nowhere, I tell you) and didn’t know how to pronounce it. I was pronouncing it as “mih-NIH-suh-reez” in front of mixed company for twenty minutes until I finally got it right.
Then I became all too aware of my own respiration. For the rest of the day (it wasn’t even noon yet!), I had to actively tell myself to inhale and then exhale. And then repeat the cycle. And repeat it again. Ad infinitum. Ad nauseam. I became paranoid that I wouldn’t be able to do it while sleeping.
I haven’t removed my watch since then. Or stopped monitoring my breathing. The latter kind of makes it hard to keep pronouncing “miniseries” properly, but I figure I can’t have everything. (Including sleep.)