How does someone forget how to do up their fly?
Because I seem to be that person.
And I’m not talking about right now.
I’m talking about as a general life rule.
I cannot remember to do up my fly lately.
For a while, I actually kept count of it, the number of times that I forgot to do up my fly, because it seemed sort of funny, in a “there’s got to be some mildly amusing blog material in these minor mishaps maybe I can mention cookies while I’m at it chortle chortle chortle” kind of way.
But then I lost count.
Of the number of times that I forgot to do up my fly.
And now I walk around in a paranoid haze, constantly checking my fly, like an overly fastidious pervert.
Now I’m trying to figure out what useless piece of learned information erased the commandment “THOU SHALT DO UP THY FLY” from my memory.
If I can figure that out, maybe it can be repaired. Or rewritten. Relearned. SOMETHING.
BECAUSE THIS IS NOT HOW I WANT TO BE REMEMBERED.
I wrote this post but didn’t put it online. Didn’t know if I was over-reacting. Decided to let it stew.
I just looked down.
My fly is down.