I’m lousy with dates.
I don’t mean the smochy-moochy-hold-hands-look-deep-into-the-eyes-on-a-moonlit-night type of dates nor do I mean an Arabic fruit.
I meant I am hopeless when it comes to the numerics on a calendar.
Take yesterday for instance. I was dead tired after work. It was pouring cats and dogs (even the heavens are crying over the farce of an election that we, Malaysians, had to endure. The jam to my parents’ home was horrendous. A journey that usually takes less than 20 minutes took 45 minutes to complete. But no, this had to be done. It was my mum’s 76th birthday. The wife and kids were already waiting at the restaurant for our arrival, the dishes had been carefully chosen beforehand – dishes that my mum would like; vegetables cooked into a consistency my dad, with his ill-fitting dentures, would bring himself to eat (my dad isn’t a big fan of fibres) and a dish or two to satisfy the kids.
It took me another 30 minutes to reach the restaurant. We settled down, the food came and just before we started eating, I turned to my mum and said, “Mum, we are having this dinner to celebrate your birthday!”.
She looked at me as if I just spoke Sanskrit! There was this uncomprehending blank look on her face. In retrospect, she was probably wondering if her son has finally come loose and lost the last marble in his overeducated brain. And then the look changed into amusement and there was even a hint of pity.
She looked at me and said, “Son, my birthday is 6 of JUNE!”
At the moment, I must have looked as if I had been struck by lightning, had a heart attack and bloody diarrhoea all rolled into one. And then it painfully dawned on me.
Gaaargh!!!! I got the dates wrong! (again). My wife gave me this “How could you have gotten it wrong (again!), you adorable idiot!”
That’s how I am wired!
I’m probably dyscalendarlexic if there is such a term.
I recall the few times I booked flights for the wrong dates or time. There were several times where I hurried to a meeting only to discover I got the dates wrong.
Like this morning, for instance. Yesterday evening, I received an email from my boss – the message was short – get a presentation ready for a meeting on the 10th of May. I looked at the date on my watch and I swear I saw 9th clearly shown on the watch’s interface! And so this morning, I decided to skip the ward round (something I loathe to do unless I absolutely had to – I feel I have done the patients a great disservice) and spent 3 hours preparing the power point. I finished the project 10 minutes before the meeting was due, gathered all my stuff, saved the power point into my pen drive, sipped some water, took a deep breath and said to myself, “YOU CAN DO THIS!” and headed off to the venue – only to discover it was empty.
I rechecked the email and lo and behold, I discovered the meeting is to be held this Friday and today’s date is 7 May 2013!
And this, this one has to take the cake:
Once I flew off to Kuching to attend a neurology conference over the weekend and discovered upon landing that I had arrived one week too early! Thankfully, my wife was with me and we were left with 2 options – fly home on the next flight or take an unplanned honeymoon! We chose the latter and had 3 glorious days in Kuching.
The following week, I returned to Kuching for the conference and many of my fellow colleagues were amazed at how much I know about the city and getting from one place to another! LOL!
I didn’t tell them about my impediment with dates.