That's how I felt, thoroughly discombobulated. And why should that be? Is my mind so organized that if something goes out of whack in the order of things, it is forced to scramble to recover itself in an orderly fashion?

I realized when I came downstairs after hours of poking about on my computer, filling the blogosphere with my thoughts and impressions, that the dishwasher hadn't been properly turned on. So I wasn't able to empty it, and had of necessity to start it at a late hour. Which necessitated that I had to empty it first thing in the morning, thus upsetting my ordinarily disciplined routine. Routine so rigid that I cannot spare a few minutes to do something like that?

We're retired old folks, after all. Nonetheless, I forgot all manner of things that are normally done sequentially, even though seconds before ignoring them I had recalled them to memory, only to have them instantly flushed away by another, following thought. Well, I managed, somehow, to get through the morning, preparing breakfast for our little dogs, for us, baking chocolate cupcakes, preparing a bread dough, putting on a chicken soup to cook, and performing a perfunctory clean-up operation; vacuuming, setting things to rights.

Still, the thought lingers; is my mental equilibrium for recalling the minutiae of routine really so fragile?