On Sunday night, I made some hard boiled eggs. On Monday morning, I thought: hard boiled eggs and a piece of toast (or two). What could be better?

So I made the toast, ate my breakfast, drank my coffee, did my hair, put on clothes and grabbed my school bag-o-books (and lesson plans).

I walked across Mladost 1A, past the Billa, to the bus stop. I took the bus to school four stops. I got off at ACS and at exactly this moment, I couldn't remember if I'd actually turned off my oven after making toast. I stood there for a moment. <em>No memory</em>.

None what so ever.<!--more-->

How can I not remember if I actually turned <em>both</em> knobs on my oven to the off position?! Well I can't.

So I cross the street. I wait for the 111 or the 76 and I take the bus back to Billa. I get off, I walk home, I take the stairs two at a time, open my door and<em> of course</em> learn that, in fact, I turned off the oven. <em></em>

<em>Good girl</em>, I tell myself.

Then it's back to school for me. I cut back through Mladost to the bus stop (which is now uber-crowded). I ride the bus to school. <em>Again</em>. The only difference is the first time I wasn't being elbowed in the kidney. I try not to think about it. It's better that way.

50 minutes and three buses later, I arrive in my classroom with an Onda coffee in hand and it's not even 8 am.

I promise myself: you will make a post-it note reminder to double check all appliances before you leave the house.

And I have.

Getting back in the swing of things is hard.