My train of thought has been derailed

A few days ago, as I was waiting for the microwave to heat up my tea (which takes one minute), I found my mind wandering.  (Side note:  I love that phrase.  I rarely wander with my whole body, as I am inevitably trying to get through my checklist for the day and am moving as fast as possible.  But my mind can wander by itself, often aimlessly, while my body is imprisoned by other duties.  As this post will illustrate.)

For some reason, rather than rushing around to see how much I could get done during that one minute as I usually do, I sat down and rested.  As I waited, I noticed that I could see my shirt moving, very slightly, with my heartbeat.  I had to be really still to notice that, which made me think of actors who have to play dead, especially in plays.  If I looked really closely, I’m sure I could see their shirts moving too.  Which made me think of the recent live performance of MacBeth I enjoyed, and all the deaths in that play, and how those actors surely could see their own chests moving.  And then I thought of the director of that performance (who probably told them to STAY STILL after they are dead), and how I told her on my way out of the theater how much I enjoyed the production.  She was so gracious, even though she clearly had no idea who I am.

That led me to think about how awkward it is when people say hello to me and I don’t know who they are.  Which made me wonder why I am so bad about remembering names.  I try all the tricks–mnemonic devices (Alex is an aardvark), tying a name to a characteristic (Harry has no hair; Lori likes to tell stories), saying the name of a new acquaintance out loud multiple times (Sara, it’s so nice to meet you, Sara, I look forward to speaking again soon, Sara)–none of which helps me remember (and some of which make me look a little unbalanced).  And then I’m thinking about other embarrassing social interactions, like last week when the man fixing a leak in my basement asked for my attention and I said “yes ma’am?” Instead of “yes sir?”  (Or “how can I help you?” Or “what do you need from me?” or really anything less embarrassing than what I said.)

I then began contemplating the amount of repair work that has been required for our house this year just to keep water out (kind of tops in the “reason to have a house” category) and I realized (again) that the house is the same age as my middle son, and how can that possibly be as it was just a few weeks ago that he was a toddler playing with toy trains.  Which toys I still have, and probably will have forever.  I got those trains out earlier this month when my two-year-old friend Henry came over, and he drove trains all over the living room and across the coffee table and on the floor and under the sofa and on the windowsills.  No tracks necessary.  

Hmmm, is that where the “train of thought” phrase comes from?  (No, it comes from Thomas Hobbes’s 1651 work, Leviathan, which predates locomotives.  In fact, perhaps that’s why the things pulled by locomotives are called trains.  There’s a whole other rabbit hole to dive down here…)  I think maybe I have multiple trains running through my mind.  No wonder I need a cup of tea.  Now if only the microwave would finish–it hasn’t even been a minute yet.