Jet-lag?

Yesterday I got up feeling well rested, but a little dis- oriented nonethe- less. After a morning of rather unproductive work, I went down to the street in search of some necessities, especially fresh fruit, for which I felt somewhat desperate. So I walked over to Alfonsito's to get pears, oranges, grapes, milk and a couple of other things. I got into line at the same time as a woman who had a basket full of stuff. After much of the typical no you first, no you, I insist you go, etc., I said, "no, please, you go first, that way I'll have a moment to forget what I'm remembering."  ("...así puedo olivdar lo que estoy recordando.") Way to go Marksie. Ole! The look she gave me was priceless. We both laughed. Oh well, at least I didn't address her in English, something I've done many times right after a trip.  (In Carlisle, I did start to answer the phone in Spanish on Saturday morning.) I don't know if it was jet-lag or just my usual knuckleheadedness. In any case, it occurred to me that maybe one way to measure how we're feeling is to ask if we want to forget what we're remembering.  Not today.