Side Effects?

I've had a few incidents in the past four days that make me wonder if the Prozac is affecting my concentration.

Last Friday I was at work for three hours before I noticed that I was wearing my brown work shoes. With my black pants. I have two pairs of work shoes: one brown, one black. Which shoes go with which pants is an immutable law of my wardrobe. I always wear the black shoes with black pants. In six years at my job, I've never worn the brown shoes with the black pants. That I did this at all amazes me, but the fact that I didn't notice it for three hours makes it even scarier.

On Saturday I was at the tennis center and needed to buy some new overgrips for my racket. So I selected a package off the rack and put it in my tennis bag. Then I recorded my match score and went home. It was only after I showered and ate lunch that I realized I never paid for the overgrips. Oh, shit, I thought! I'm a shoplifter! I hope no one saw me put those things in my bag without paying. So I drove back to the tennis center and paid for them. Luckily, they hadn't put my picture up as a felon.

On Sunday morning I couldn't remember the name of my great uncle. I wanted to mention him in a story on my blog (coming soon), but I couldn't for the life of me recall his name. Uncle Fred? Carl? Farl? This was someone whose name came up all the time when I was growing up. It would be like forgetting what you called your grandmother (Grammy? Mawmaw? Abuelita?) when you were a kid. I thought of calling one of my siblings to ask them what his name was, but I was too embarrassed. Later in the day I remembered it, but it was still troubling.

Today I came to work half an hour early because I had an early morning class visit. I didn't sleep well last night, so I didn't feel very refreshed when I got up. As I was preparing for the first class, I had trouble concentrating. I couldn't think straight, my mind was fuzzy, and I was disoriented. I've never had a lack of sleep affect me like that before. Luckily it went away before I started teaching.

On the upside, I pulled out an amazing tennis victory on Sunday morning. After eight straight league losses and two spectacular acts of chokage, I gutted out a three-set victory (3-6, 6-3, 6-4) over the hottest player. I was winless this session (0-4) and I beat the only undefeated guy (4-0). It doesn't make any sense, but there you go. In the third set I tried to choke, blowing a 5-2 lead and letting him come back to 5-4, but I kept myself confident by repeating inspirational mantras, songs, and strategies in my head. Or maybe I just got lucky.

I don't know if any of these things are related to the drugs in my brain, but I offer them up as evidence if next week I freak out and hold a bank full of nuns hostage.