The other day I did something that left me feeling stupid.
I know, breaking news, right?
We all do “stupid things” everyday. I know, I do, always have.
Yet, it’s different now, somehow.
Here is what happened….
After playing Bridge to exhaustion, I’m staggering to the door when I notice a briefcase on the floor. Memory circuits start firing, and as I stand there, swaying slightly, I’m recalling a few of the many times when I’ve spotted Sayer heading off to work in the early morning. Me, drinking my coffee in bed, and Sayer, on the outside, hauling his briefcase.
His briefcase is distinctive. It’s slim (in a European style, perhaps) and Sayer carries it casually slung over a shoulder with a strap. Cool.
For some reason I choose this moment, staring at the briefcase, to mention how I like his briefcase. There is a short silence, then Sayer answers in a very even tone, “Um, that’s Emma’s briefcase?” And a low-to-medium wave of shame (somewhat disproportionate to misidentifying the briefcase) passes over. I resume my trajectory toward the door, muttering like a drunkard about how of course I knew the difference between the bags.
The odd thing was that I DID know the difference between the two, but that wasn’t as important to me as the memory Emma’s bag had triggered. I wish I’d given myself the time to sort out my reactions before going with the shame option.
[Note from Jane: Ever since Sky's diagnosis, I've become more aware of people's casual use of the word "stupid" or "dumb".... I'm learning to watch my language. We're so careful with our language so as to not offend various groups of traditionally marginalized people that I'm now finding "stupid" to mean more than I ever thought it did before. How about you?]