I thought I'd start something new.
As I'm an old fart now, instead of simply ranting I will vary things a little by introducing posts that just drone on like a dribbling old lady on a bus.
This comes from Monday's post about getting old and forgetting things. When I was writing it I forgot to put this bit in … so here it is.
I find from Monday's comments box that I'm not alone in forgetting where the hell I am or what I'm doing. So do any of you other guys suffer from "autopilot"?
A couple of examples in case you're unsure what I'm droning on about:
First up: when I used to work in Norwich I would be sat in rush hour traffic for an hour or so every morning. Anyway, this one morning I remember sitting there, listening to music, and the next thing I know I wake up in Dereham, driving through the middle of a town fifteen miles away. It's about an hour later and I have no idea what I'm doing there or how I got there.
I didn't even know where "there" was until I found my way out of the stupid town and saw a sign. I didn't recognise it because there's no reason for anybody ever to want to go to Dereham; it's a shithole.
So I found a main road and made my way to work, where the boss told me I was a dork.
The best one though, happened when I had left that firm and had been working at a new place for eighteen months.
I drove in to Norwich, parked up, bought my paper and walked to the office.
I keyed in the security code, walked up the stairs, said "Hi, Mel" to my secretary, who smiled and said "Hi" back.
I made coffee, walked in to my office and sat at my drawing board, wishing Norman "Good morning."
It wasn't until I had been sitting there for several minutes, chatting to Norm and trying to remember what I had been working on the previous day that good old Norman turned around and said.
"Dive … er … You don't work here any more."
I'd left the place eighteen months beforehand.
Being crap, they hadn't changed the entry codes, and Mel (bless her) was never the sharpest tool in the box (she collected "collector" plates and Star Trek "collectibles" and though she was pretty, she could never seem to get a boyfriend), and Norm was near to retirement, but it took him several minutes of casual chat before he cottoned on to what was wrong.
Mel giggled and said "I thought you looked different." Duh …
So I hung around for a bit until I'd finished my coffee, getting laughed at by my old work colleagues, then went to my new office where my boss told me I was a dork.
Is it just me? Or does "autopilot" happen to you guys, too?
21 comments:
Everyone goes into autopilot now and then. It's healthy I'm sure, to let the body and mind just do what needs doing. That way you don't have to think too much :-)
joy
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Thanks, Joy. Although I'm not sure that driving to Dereham is healthy … or even sane. What a dreadful place it is. Hee hee.
Hun I blog on auto pilot, have you read some of the crap I've been posting lately.
Although I did have a nice email with your brother the other night in the wee hours and i definately wasn't on auto pilot for that.
Hee hee, Kate; you are so incapable of posting crap.
Yikes! You emailed the Monkey God? I'll have to quiz Phil to get all the gory details.
I drive on autopilot all the time. I don't end up in odd towns, but I get from point A to point B with vagueness inbetween. Once just last year, when I was buying something, the cashier asked for my zip code "for statistical purposes," I quickly rattled off the zip code where I lived when I was twelve. My daughter was frightened. It actually took a minute to realize what I had done, but by then, my current zip code had hidden in a brain fold unreachable by the memory center.
Oh, that's wonderful, Robyn. Hee hee.
That vagueness between points A and B is a good description of my life.
I do your zip code thing with phone numbers.
I also answer the phone at the office and say the name of the last place I used to work. I do that at least once a week and can't seem to cure myself of it.
Hey ho.
he emailed me.
I'd like him for christmas please. :)
I'll stick some stamps on his forehead and mail him to you, Kate.
That's a ripper, Dive. You should have done a spot of "door knocking"; - walked into the (old) boss' office and asked for a pay rise. He might have been on your wavelength !! The also-Dork syndrome.
I do like Joy's suggestion though, that's true mental (and physical) health. Thinking, whence creativity cometh, should be reserved for the more important, and basic necessities of one's existence.
Perhaps we should train ourselves to understand the autopilot syndrome. It may really be astral projection. The soul knoweth but the body may be confused. Listen to the soul ?
Being on autopilot is the price we have to pay for having a life that's full of routine.
Mind you, I think you must have a subconscious desire to return to your old job ...
Autopilot happens more than I care to think about. Usually I can dodge anyone else figuring out where I've gone wrong. Like after a date one night in a town that is about 30 miles from where I live, I got on the Massachusetts turnpike to head home and after about 20 miles, I realized that things weren't looking familiar in the "getting close to home" way and realized that I was heading west, not east which is the way I had intended to go. Not proud, but I was alone so no one saw . . . until I opened my big mouth.
Mel sounds smart like my secretary is smart. Sweet girl, but it's unclear how she manages to find her way out of bed each morning.
Monsieur B: The old boss did indeed come in while we were giggling and asked if I would like the job back, which I politely declined. The pay was shite.
Betty: you're spot on with the routine thing. Though why I should drive to Dereham is quite beyond reason.
Fresh: I'm so glad it;s not just me.
Your secretary does sound a bit like Mel. Mel couldn't find her own butt with both hands. Her filing system consisted of a series of random, messy heaps of paper.
DIVE - You are such a DORK!!!
Robyn - as for the zip code thing - I give them the wrong zip code all the time and the wrong telephone number if they ask me for that. I like to ramble out any numbers that come into mind. Gives me a sense of...power.
Hee hee, Rich. I am the Duke of Dork.
I find that autopilot is a constant in my day-to-day routine. Even when I tell myself over and over about an errand I need to run, I take my exit towards home, every time and must turn around and go back. As far as finding myself somewhere I wasn't supposed to be hasn't happened since I stopped drinking tequila!
Mmmmm … Tequila …
I think I'm about to reluctantly enter that phase of life where I carry little lists around in my pocket to remind me what to do.
Next stop: incontinence and dribbling.
Remember when I used to work 6 twelve hour night shifts a week in my early days in the magic kingdom?
I used to lose whole weekends and regularly forget my name. I was only 25 then so maybe it's inherent in us all from an early age.
A spell of warm sunshine would do for me Kate.
Does the White Star line still do steerage class tickets?
I think you still get free passage down there if you steal a chicken.
And your guarenteed a free flight home if you don't declare any mad cow beef you might be importing.
Hmmm...I don't think I ended up in the wrong town or anything yet, but I have taken Liv to school and then drove home....to the house we lived in when she was an infant...in a really scary part of town...and pulled into the driveway and got out of the car...
On the way to the front door, my old next door neighbor came out and asked me what I was doing back in the old neighborhood and I realized my mistake before I let myself in and wondered where all the my stuff was....
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