Let it Go? That's the Least of My Issues

Let it go... Let it go! It's a conspiracy. Every where I go I hear that song from the movie Frozen. The supermarket... the post office... Target. It's like this never-ending flash mob of 7 year old girls taking over the world from which there's no escape. Does anybody else keep hearing that song or is it just me? Maybe fate thinks I'm dense and it has to hit me over the head with this message. What's it trying to tell me? What can't I let go of? It's ironic because I really don't think I have a problem with letting things go. In fact, it's just the opposite. I can't hang onto things. Keys, glasses, yes. But mentally I'm even worse. I can't remembering anything. I'm neither elderly nor do I have a drug history and yet I barely remember anything. I could work with you for 12 years, saw you yesterday, all day, until 5pm. So of course I know you. Maybe we even speak frequently. Maybe I've met your husband or your mother. And Monday, when I get back to work, I'll know you again. But if I see you somewhere else in between, I can't put it together in my head. You'll come over to me in a restaurant or a mall and say: "Hey Lori!" And I'll carry on this conversation with you. I'm talking normally, but in my head I'm totally unhinged. "She looks sooo familiar. I know I know her from somewhere." But I swear for the first incredibly uncomfortable minute and a half, I have no idea whether we work together, you're my neighbor, my cousin or my high school math teacher. (Okay, I could probably rule out the last one since you don't look anywhere between 80 and 102.)

So you may be talking but I'm having my own game/quiz show in my head. I'm only listening to you at all in hopes of grabbing a hint as to who the hell you are. Did she just mention where she works? Wait, she said Dr. somebody. Is she my gynecologist's receptionist? Then, since multi-tasking is for suckers, I have to tune out what she's saying altogether so I can squint at her, trying to imagine what she would look like with her hair in a bun and my insurance card in her hand. Or maybe she recently had surgery. sWhat would she look Did she sayThen I have another terrible thought to contend with: What if I don't like this person when I'm conscious? What if this is the lady who was driving 23 miles and hour, whom I passed, flipping her off on the way?

There's only time where I let myself off the hook... With our neighbors. We've lived on the same block in the same house for seven years. Most of our neighbors have been there at least as long. And we don't have that many neighbors... only about eight. But they all look alike. And we're in the Southern part of the US where nobody looks like anybody in the Northern part of the US except us... being that we're from the northern part of the US. They all have blond, straight hair. The men are all tallish and have that reddish, sunburned look to them. Here, it makes you think they work outside and/or they drink. In New York it means they drink and/or have high blood pressure. Naturally all their kids look alike too. And they all have last names as first names like "Carter" or "Donovan". If a little blond boy ran off the school bus and into a house on any given day I couldn't tell you for sure if he'd gone home for dinner or was robbing the joint.

You know what? I just realized what the cosmic world is trying to tell me to let go of? The movie Frozen.