I poured myself a mug of coffee just now, and spent nearly a full minute trying to figure out how I had managed to only brew enough for one serving. I was certain that I had made the usual amount... Sighing, and resigning myself to brewing more later if I wanted it, I trudged over to my desk.
Where I found a full mug of coffee that I had poured a few minutes earlier.
Good grief. Grey hairs and forgetfulness at 37 years of age... what's next?
In other news, we once again have head colds, no thanks to the Kindergartener and his lovely classmates mingling their germs in a perpetual cycle. At least this feeling-poorly makes me experience less guilt about spending a rainy morning (in between chores) parked right here: