Fog of Grief

Not me
I told myself defiantly
and then
mailed the check for property taxes
only to have it returned
for lack of a signature
and then
typed laminated and taped
the wrong WIFI password
on the frig the night of her party
confusing everyone
and then
sailed past our assigned slip
where three strong bodies waited
to help us dock in heavy air and
motored instead into a slip
with no one
and then
slid my jeans on backwards
twice
and then
lost the auto insurance invoice
the credit card statement
and then
could not find the shared checkbook
always kept in its assigned space
How long will this last, he asked?
I shrugged for I do not know
and then
walked into the men’s bathroom