Brain Fog, Maybe?

I have had headaches from time to time seemingly since the pandemic began.  It might be hypochondria, and it might not be causal, and I continue to test negative according to the antigen test (and one antibody test, even though I took that in the late summer), but I have had them.  I wouldn't consider them to be debilitating like migraines, but at their worst I can't remember having headaches like them.

On top of that I have not felt mentally sharp for the past year or so.  I totally attribute that to the pandemic and the ensuing lockdown.  I cannot do what I want in the evenings, so I'm resigned to lolling around at home, which makes me lazy and unfocused.  Also, I think exercise would do me world of good, for my mind as well as my body.

With so much time on my hands, ironically (maybe) I have let all my chores go without doing anything.  Letters keep piling up, unopened.  Father did laundry for me earlier in the week.  He even folded them.  But I haven't put them away yet.  And I still haven't found that damn lottery ticket I bought at The Mechanic Around The Corner for my sister.

At work, at the top of every hour, someone from my row of workers is supposed to check this form pinned to a clipboard.  We call this the "board."  These folders we check and clean are initialed once we are done with them, but as a final, final check, someone (and it rotates every day) is supposed to add up the number of folders that have been passed through for that just-completed hour (we use different-colored pens to track the folders every different hour) and (and not to get into the weeds with our work) check on our software that every single form in every single folder for that hour is complete.  It just so happens that this clipboard sits right next to me.  The person who "checks the board" should get up and get the clipboard shortly after the top of every hour.  But sometimes that person, who sits several seats down to the right of me, either loses track of time or is busy going through and "sanitizing" the folders.  So what I often do is get up, grab the board and lay it next to her.  It's an excuse to stretch.

Earlier this week, several minutes after the top of, I think, 10 in the morning, I got up and handed off the board.  And the person who was checking it that day said, "I already checked it!"  And then she said, "You already gave the board to me!"

"Really?" I replied.

"Yeah.  You gave it to me, like, a few minutes ago."

On the form there are lines to write down how many folders we finish each hour, and they're marked "6-7," 12-1," etc.  The line for "9-10" was filled; she already added up the number of folders done for the hour.  And yet I swear, I swear, that I looked at the clock, looked at that line, saw it was filled in, and thought to myself, "Oh!  The board for the past hour hasn't been checked yet!"  Worse than that, and worst of all?  I don't remember getting up to give her the board prior to this second time.  And I still don't recall giving her the board.

Foggy brain, man.  It's COVID, man, it's COVID. ...