Last night, I thought I was supposed to go to a meeting. This group of writers meets every first and third Tuesday of the month. In order to get there, I have to ride the bus for a half an hour. When I arrived at our normal destination, I made all the Barnes and Noble employees run around the store, dragging chairs into a circle for the upcoming meeting.
As you've already guessed, I had the wrong day. This began to sink in slowly as I sat alone in a circle of empty chairs. I finally called my boyfriend, dreading his reaction. I asked him in a meek voice, "Is it the third Tuesday of the month?"
His shrieks of laughter could probably be heard in remote regions of France. He made fun of me all night. And now I feel stupid. The End.
Silly Scale: I give this a two. I try not to get any more absent-minded then going to an appointment on the wrong night.
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