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I bought a stamp this morning, and when I couldn’t get it to stick to the letter I accused the lady of selling me a defective stamp. She took the stamp, wiped it off, peeled the adhesive paper, and stuck it on my letter. My face turned red. I had been licking a postage stamp.

I left the post office and went to the gas station. I got out of my van and scanned my card on the pump to get my three-cents-a-gallon discount. The scanner didn’t work so I tried again….and again…and again. I must have tried 10 times before I gave up and went for help. The man who works there left his cubicle and followed me to the pump. He took my card from me and looked at me with a puzzled expression on his face.

“This is from the exercise place up town. It won’t pay for your fuel.”

Feeling even more foolish, I went home to spend some quality time with my granddaughter. She wasn’t in the best of moods, so to entertain her I donned a headband with blue bunny ears that I had given her for Easter….then I forgot to take it off. When the UPS man delivered a package, he looked at me like I had just stepped off a spaceship. Maybe I have.

I blame my antics on the fact that I am always distracted. Like most folks these days, I’m “plugged in” 24 hours a day. If one of my phones isn’t ringing (I have three) I have a permanent mental list of 20 things I need to do throughout the day. If I finish that—which I never do—I have more items waiting to be tackled.

The only way I know to be less distracted is to unplug myself—turn off all the gadgets in my life and go somewhere where no one knows me and there aren’t a million things I need to do. I’m not sure where this place is or how I will get there, but I do know one thing for sure, I will always come back home.

No matter how crazy my life is, it’s my life and there really is no place like home.

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