Recently I was over at someone's house, and it was only after I left that I realized I had left a book behind, sitting there on an end table in their living room.
By the time I remembered I forgot, I was already ten miles down the road, with somewhere else I had to be, so I couldn't very well turn back. Oh well, I assume that book will get to me somehow, eventually. And it's not as if I'll need it any time soon. Still, it's annoying. The older I get, the more I find myself suffering memory lapses like these. One could almost say I'm getting older.