Today Bob went down to storage to begin moving books back in to his new apartment. He was supposed to call me and let me know when he was going there so I could meet him. He did not. Around 9:00am I went there and he was rooting through everything pissing and moaning that nothing was where it should be and "they" had put things where they don't belong, "They" would be me and my brother, and we put things where he told us to, and later on he and I moved them while looking for something he was obsessing over several months ago.
He was getting irritated that the boxes (while numbered) were not in order. He forgets that we had to move them to storage in a hurry because he was being forced to move out of his old apartment. He's lucky they were numbered and in any kind of order.
He also forgets that he personally told us where to put the boxes at the time.
He has this strange dichotomy of "I have Alzheimer's and can't remember shit", and "I know what I know!".
He also gets distracted because he is constantly finding things he "forgets about", and wants to show me all about it, even though he has done this many times before and I have seen the items dozens of times. He gets irritated when I tell him he has already show it to me many times.
The big "problem" today was that his drafting table was in the way. The drafting table had been taken apart and turned upside down and placed on the books (by him) several months ago. He no longer wanted it and so I suggested that we move some boxes, slide it out and put it in his truck to be taken to Goodwill.
In the process of moving it I tweaked my back!
We loaded it up and then he was done for the day because the long sleeve shirts he insists on wearing made him hot and sweaty. No books were loaded at this time.
While writing this he showed up at my home asking for a couple of pens because he could not find any at Fry's. Which means he did not look very hard, and did not ask anyone.
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