SSD syndrome

I suffer from SSD syndrome. Not the heart condition. Not the one that you get from sniffing glue either. I am talking about the worst of all: Sticky Side Down syndrome.

The syndrome manifests itself several times throughout the day in the following way: I think about something I need or want to do. In a sudden moment of complete clarity my head reminds me of facts that are relevant for the execution of that task. Complete clarity is immediately followed by total amnesia. Without further consideration I go ahead with whatever I needed or wanted to do. The result can be rated on a scale from "slightly dangerous" to "stupid, but entertaining".
That was of course very theoretical, so let me give you some practical examples for how this rare disease affects my life:

Take today, roundabout 15 minutes ago. I am sewing a bag at the moment and wanted to take the time tonight to iron on the reinforcing fabric onto the lining. As I picked up the fabric I thought to myself "Remember to put it on the lining with the sticky side down". I then went on to check that I had the damp cloth needed to iron on the fabric, put it down on the lining and started to iron. And iron. And then iron some more. Still, every time I lifted the damp cloth, the fabric would come loose from the lining. You probably already figured it out, but it took me a whole 5 minutes (and lots of ironing) to realize that I had NOT put the fabric with the sticky side down after all and thus ironed it onto the damp cloth instead.

Then there is my little problem at work.
As the desk I am working at right now has only been set up temporarily for me, I am missing most standard office supplies and little extras that make life nice, such as a trash bin. Everybody else has got their own black plastic trash bin under their tables, while I have to go around and find somebody who will let me use theirs. However, several times a day I notice a big black object under my table out of the corner of my eye, which immediately triggers my instinct to throw away whatever stuff has been piling up on my desk. My head usually tells me that something is wrong, very wrong, about the picture of me throwing something into MY trash bin under MY table, but the thought disappears again as quickly as it popped up. And the next thing I know is that I have thrown candy wrappers and bits of paper into my winter boots.

SSD syndrome may not kill, but it does leave you feeling very, very "special".