The Air Up There

I have been accused of being an airhead before in my life. I never really believed it; after all, I feel that I am an intelligent person, well-read, educated. But one can be smart and also an airhead, I have come to realize. I guess that is why we have the term "absent-minded professors". That term wouldn't exist if they didn't.

When somebody asks me how my weekend was on Monday morning, I stare blankly back at them trying to remember what the hell I did the two days prior. Sometimes I have to say "I feel like I did something, but I can't remember what it was" and then once I depart the elevator, I will remember that I went wine tasting or celebrated a friend's birthday or whatever it was. But I end up looking like a total ditz because I couldn't answer a seemingly simple question.

Other examples would be leaving the house with the one thing that I told myself to remember. (Doesn't everybody do that?) Talking like a valley girl, with the "likes" and "whatevers" doesn't help my cause. (I'm working on removing those words from my vocabulary.) In college, my roommates called me The Great Spacecoaster... It started out as Spacy Tracy and then evolved into something more. I didn't really understand why. I mean, was I any worse than the rest of the people attending my college, one affectionately referred to as Stony-onta? It couldn't be true.

How can somebody like me, somebody so organized, so prompt, so responsible, also be an airhead? Am I so involved in the moments of my day, that I forget the other things I am supposed to be remembering? Too many thoughts/projects/things in my head, pre-occupying me so that I will leave my coffee on the counter of a cafe after having just bought it and only realize it when I am 10 blocks away? I suppose I should just be happy that my college nickname did have the word "great" in it!