Dude, Where's My Car?

I'm a creature of habit.  In the morning I follow the same routine in the same order.  Shower, put on robe, brush teeth, deodorant, hair, makeup, clothes and breakfast.  Every.  Single.  Day.  One misstep in my routine and I wind up at work with unbrushed teeth and a spritz of deodorant in my hair.  I do not handle change well, as proven by an incident yesterday morning.

After a successful morning routine I went to work early.  I parked in the front lot and hustled in for a meeting.  I usually park in the back lot and so as I walked to my meeting, I told myself, "Don't forget you parked in the front lot.  Don't forget you parked in the front lot."  I even did that tapping on the forehead thing, like maybe that would cement it into my brain.

In the afternoon, I walked out to the back lot toward my regular spot and was gobsmacked when my car was not there.  I stood puzzled for a full minute.  My house is a short walk to my school and sometimes I walk to work.  Upon seeing my empty parking spot, I deduced that I must have walked to work.  So I strolled out of the back lot and onto the sidewalk.  The sidewalk parallels the front parking lot.  It wasn't until I saw my actual car in the front lot that I put it all together.  I did the walk of shame from the sidewalk to my car, profoundly grateful that I was the only one in the lot to witness my feat of stupidity.

I am very concerned about what I'm going to be like when I'm old.