Where’s My Car?

More and more these days, I am forgetting where I parked my car.  I regularly return to my car after I’ve worked my shift and simply can’t recall where I parked up.  I know which car park it’s on because I always use the same one (we have several), but I can rarely walk directly to my car without having to think hard as to where it is.  My ‘problem’ was initially confined to the works car par and I had this down to being half asleep in the mornings but it has gradually progressed to the supermarket car park and the multi-storey in town.  I could walk but I’d get lost. 

And it’s not hard to imagine that multi-storey car parks are even more of a challenge for me because they are just that – multi-storey.  But after months of regularly forgetting to check which level I’m on, I’ve finally disciplined my brain to making a mental note of it each time I park up so this is no longer a problem.

But today, after a quick trip into town, I returned to the car park and (so far-so good) successfully reached the correct level.  But then I-could-not-find-my-car!  What made it more embarrassing was the fact that today was a bloody Debenhams Blue Cross Sale event so there was a lot more traffic coming through hence a lot more people.  I walked along the two sub levels (just to make things even more complex for me there’s an A and a B level on each level!!!) and was getting more and more anxious.  I was thinking I surely can’t be this bad.  It must have been stolen.  I know, you’re picturing this mad woman shuffling along with her head down, muttering to herself.

It get’s worse.  I was totally mortified when this handsome chap (they’re always good-looking when my hair’s a mess and I’m in my work uniform!) returning to his car, noticed my discomfort and asked me if I needed help.   Bless him.   At this point, I was fervently praying to the gods that the car really had been stolen so that I didn’t lose my self-respect altogether.  He asked me what colour/type of car I had and the registration number.  I told him and he took me straight to it within about five seconds.   For goodness sake floor, do the world a favour and swallow me up!

So, that’s it now.  No more distracting thoughts in my head when I’m parking up.  I’m going back on the Omega3 supplements and I’m going to return to that multi-functioning, multi-tasking Wonder Woman that I once was.

Look out world!


3 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by misslionheart on October 28, 2006 at 11:59 am

    A similar thing happened to me last year in Dublin. Now, its bad enough finding somewhere to park at the best of times, but when I finished my shopping, I could’t remember where the car park was! Then, after retracing my footsteps, found it but couldn’t find my car. I looked all over for about half an hour(with a one-year-old in a pram and five bags of shopping) I was almost in tears and about to ring HWSBO when I realised I was still looking for the English registration plate!


  2. Glad I’m not the only one.

    Maybe it’s just because my glasses need changing.


  3. Posted by misslionheart on October 28, 2006 at 9:34 pm

    I don’t need glasses! Freightnin’…


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