I don't really like the definition of scatterbrained.
It's a person flighty or disorganized, two adjectives I wouldn't want to pick to describe me, but lately a bit scatterbrained is what I've been.
Rack it up to days too long with too many things on the to-do agenda, both necessary and unnecessary.
I get no argument from Better Half, only affirmation.
Take the other evening when we were walking through the parking lot of a local dollar store, heading back to the Kiaskimobile.
I was grumbling to myself.
Better Half was egging me on.
"Come on, scatterbrain," he said, a hint of a chuckle in that I-told-you-so tone of voice of his.
We had been on our way home after a busy evening when I implored him to make just one more stop, pretty please. Let me go in the dollar store, I told him, and use this $5 gift card I won as a door prize.
I'll just be a minute, I offered my famous promise. A big lie if there ever was one.
Better Half obliged, even went in with me though he's no casual consumer ever ready to shop, gift card or no gift card.
I decided it would be good to use the gift card toward the purchase of a set of long johns - a top and a bottom given we've moved into a cold time of year when layering clothing is a good idea for those of us inclined for outdoor activities such as horseback riding.
I find what I'm looking for with relative speediness. Off to the counter I headed, annoyed by my husband's innocent yet irritating query as to whether or not I had gotten the right size.
What am I - scatterbrained?
As I approached the checkout line, a woman in front invited me to go ahead of her since I only had the two items - the tops of the long johns, the bottoms of the long johns.
As my purchase was processed, I began the dig in my purse for that $5 gift card I had confirmed I had with me when we had pulled in the parking lot.
Now I could not find it. I dug and dug and dug - halfway to China it seemed - but no $5 gift card.
Oh, for the love of Pete, whoever he is, I muttered to myself. Now I was holding up the line I should have been through in Olympic record fashion.
I found paper clips, cough drops, coupons, change, everything but that $5 gift card I knew I had in there somewhere. Come out, come out wherever you are.
I also made the shocking discovery that I had no money on me either, so to add insult to injury, I had to bum $14 from Better Half as I apologized to the world. OK, it was just to the clerk and the lady behind me who could have been halfway home by now probably.
I tell my second lie of the evening to Better Half. I'll pay you back, I told him.
Transaction completed, we proceed home, and during the ride there, of course, I am suddenly able to find that stinking gift card.
Oh, I hate myself, I said loud enough for Better Half to hear me.
Me too, he said with empathy.
We arrive home, and I'm ready to put the day behind me. I decide to check out my new duds. The top is a medium. Good, good. I rip open the bottoms. They look kind of big. They're a 2X.
Oh, for the love of Pete, whoever he is. Guess I'll have to use the gift card to buy a belt.
(Kiaski, a resident of Steubenville, is a staff columnist and features writer for the Herald-Star and the Weirton Daily Times and community editor for the Herald-Star. She can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.)