Tales of a prego: baby brain

I sit here eating my delicious sandwich from Schlotzsky's and think to myself, did that seriously just happen??

Let me set the scene for you...

Patrick and Morgan went out for dinner, and so I decided to get a sandwich from some place close by. I love Schlotzsky's, its literally a two minute drive, so off I go.

I unnecessarily look at the menu (I always have my "regular order" at any place I frequent) and thus begins the longest string of "baby brain events" to this point:

Me: Can I get a small traditional on sourdough?
Clerk: A small ORIGINAL? Sure.
Me: Yeah, sorry.
Clerk: Would you like chips and a drink or just the sandwich?
Me: Just the salad please.
Clerk: The sandwich?
Me: ::shaking my head at myself:: yeah, sorry. And no onions please.
Clerk: Sure thing.

He hands me my receipt and says, "You're order number 102."

I sit down and patiently wait for my sandwich, already embarrassed at the two mistakes I've made in a matter of seconds. There's maybe 5 other people in the whole place.

I hear "order number 101." I look at my receipt because I've already forgotten my number. A minute or so later I hear "small original." Nope, not me. I continue to check my email on my phone. Again I hear "small original." The thought in my mind was literally, "who ordered that?" I look at my receipt again, "nope, I'm number 102." The guy peeks his head around the window, looks right at me and says, "Ma'am, your sandwich is ready." In a matter of seconds I realize what had happened and I feel mortified. I quickly thank him, apologize and start to walk out. I passed the door, stopped, back tracked and as embarrassed as I was, looked for the handle of the door-the windows and door looked exactly the same. Oh my gosh, I just need to get out of here.

I find the door and grab for my keys in my purse. I hit the unlock button and stand by my car...but the alarm sounds sort of dead. Like its off in the distance. I think, "Dang it, I hope the battery isn't having problems again." I reach for the door handle and something doesn't look right-it's black. My handles are silver. OH MY GOSH, THAT'S NOT MY CAR. I look up and this guy who's walking into Schlotzsky's sort of smiles at me and looks down because he's trying not to embarrass me more than I already was. I quickly walk to my car, look around to make sure I recognize things in it. "Good, I'm pretty sure this is my car." Key started it-great-get me out of here.

On the way home (only a two minute drive) I think to myself, "I seriously can't go out in public by myself anymore. What if I forget the rules of the road and kill a pedestrian?! What if a fire alarm goes off and I stand around looking at all the frantic people?" The whole way home I was nervously paying attention to the road, the normal route I use to go home. "Is this my house? Yes! I still haven't planted those two rose bushes in the front. Okay, good."

Not a fan of this "baby brain" and I'll be the first to NOT blame anything "weird" on the fact that I'm pregnant, but this is happening way to frequently for me to deny anymore. I'm ready to have my mind back :)