In Which I Lose My Mind for 30 Seconds

We recently stayed overnight at a friend's home in Connecticut.  It is a lovely home:  very traditional from the outside but redesigned on the inside to be full of unexpected architecture.  The house is decorated with an amazing collection of unique art and photos.  My Beloved and I were taking mental snapshots of the bookshelves, the picture frames, the color scheme.

In the morning, I lay in bed imagining how I could incorporate one of these design elements into my own home.  But, for a full 30 seconds, I could not conjure forth one mental image of my own home.  My own home, in which I've lived almost nine years!  Of which I am so ridiculously proud, thanks to My Beloved's efforts to make it our own!  At first, it felt like one of those moments we've all experienced when you can't recall a person's name.  But as the seconds ticked on and images of bedrooms and living rooms flashed in my mind (Hawaii, my SIL's, my parents'), I knew this was worse.  It was the lost feeling experienced as a small child when I grabbed a stranger's hand mistaking it for my mother's.  I thought of waking My Beloved, but how would I explain it?  I don't know where I live.  I don't know how to get home.  I tried picturing where I sleep at night, where I eat, thinking the memory of the action would provide the environment.  Nothing.  Nothing but glasslike panic.

And then, boom, I was able to recall a photograph taken by my MIL of the front of our home when we first moved in.  From there, I was able to re-build the interior in my mind.  This was four days ago and I am still shaken by the experience.

Oh, wicked senility!  Be quick with your dirty work!