My proso story
I’ve been proso all my life but didn’t find out until I was 59 when a friend saw a 20 minute slot on 20\20. I had mentioned to her that I have much difficulty recognizing people even after seeing them within the hour. I remember sitting in a reading circle in first grade with my teacher and 7 other kids. She would ask me what Sally did in the story and I would flip back the pages trying to see which one was Sally. She would yell at me and accuse me of not doing my homework. A couple of years ago I was on the NYS thruway and stopped in the rest stop. A woman came up to me and said hi. I was trying to figure out who she was. She knew this and said don’t you know who I am? She was my boss and I didn’t recognize her because she looked like any other weary traveller with greasy hair, no make-up and sweat clothes on. Boy was I embarrassed. Another colleague at school apparently has naturally curly hair but straightens it sometimes. I didn’t recognize her and snubbed her in the hallway. Oh well! I only buy red cars because I can’t recognize cars either. They all look the same to me. I travelled down to Florida to take my son to the hospital to have his tonsils out and when we got to the parking lot to go home I didn’t even remember what color it was and he was so groggy and grouchy and had to find the car himself. I have plenty more to add but thought I should stop here but don’t mind talking to others about it
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