Thursday, November 5, 2009

Pregnancy Brain

There is a phenomenon that happens to pregnant women called Pregnancy Brain. It's quite similar to sleep deprivation -- you seem fine to the casual observer, but have serious memory problems and often times will do things that just don't quite make sense.

Case and point:

I take the train to and from work, and drive to the train station. Since the train station's parking lot is tiny (and I feel you are also broadcasting that you've left your car there all day for anyone to take advantage of), I park on the residential streets around the station. Once a month the city preforms street cleaning so parking is banned on the south-bound side on Tuesdays and then on the north-bound side on Wednesdays. Parking on those days is especially difficult since there are only 1/2 of the usual spots available.

Yesterday was the first Wednesday of November, so parking was not allowed on the north-bound side. I drove around a bit and found a spot. Good to go, I parked and walked to the train, worked all day, took the train home and walked back to my car.

Or I should say I walked back to where my car had been.

As I approached my parking spot, I saw there was a Lexus parked there. I don't drive a Lexus. I looked at the spot, and then at the very large "NO PARKING 9am-12pm STREET CLEANING -- TOW ZONE" sign directly next to the spot. And I realized I am an idiot. I was parked perfectly well on the north-bound side of the street. Pregnancy brain.

CRAP.

So I start walking. It's like just over 1 mile to our house from the train station, so I figured I'd walk it and deal with finding where the heck my car had ended up along the way. (And have this time to vent and deal with the fact that I had just basically asked the city to tow my car -- please! I'll leave it right here for you!)

I called my boss, explained I am an idiot and would not be into work the next day (today). I called my nanny and told her I'd be late. I called my husband and complained to his voicemail (he was on a plane...which I knew but still wanted to drag him into the situation). Then I called 311 to find out how to get my car back.

They connected me to the District 6 pound. District 6 said they didn't have my car, and usually cars were just relocated for street cleaning and not towed (good to know). So I called the relocation people and they said no, they had not relocated any cars from where I had been parked.

Double crap. My car is gone. Lost. Because I'm an idiot. And have pregnancy brain.

I start thinking this all through -- I have the only car seat in my car. So we are going to have to buy a new car seat so we can get John around in Tom's car. But then what if they find my car? Can I return a slightly used car seat? Will insurance cover a rental car?

I get home, thank our nanny for staying a bit late (I think she was trying not to laugh at me), and start our night time routine with John. As John and I are sitting and watching Curious George (yes, he's under 2 years old and we let him watch some TV -- this is not a time to judge), I start telling him that I can't remember my walk from my car to the train that morning. I told him (yes, I told my 19 month old son) that I didn't remember turning the corner I would have to turn to get from my parking spot to the train...or walking up the street that I had parked on.

What was I doing while I walked to the train?
I was emailing Alexis.
What did I email to Alexis?
It was about the nose saline solution. And I told her I had just gotten rock star parking.

Wait.

ROCK STAR PARKING?!?!?!?!?!?!??!????????????????????????

I was parked somewhere else!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It all came back to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I KNOW WHERE MY CAR IS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Entirely a different street. And a different block.

And I am a clear sufferer of PREGNANCY BRAIN TO THE EXTREME!!!!!

Relief. (And annoyance!)

Tom drove me to my car this morning, and it was there, happily parked in a lovely spot with no restrictions what-so-ever.

Tee-hee...

1 comment:

  1. Sheesh! that sounds like something I would do. All's well that ends well and all that, bla bla bla- michelle

    ReplyDelete