I didn't understand what a "senior moment" was until I had one myself.
It was terrifying, in a weird sort of way because I knew exactly what was going on and what I wanted to remember; I simply couldn't summon the information out of Data Central. It happened one morning between feeding the dogs and emptying the dishwasher, when it suddenly occured to me I couldn't remember who wrote Madame Bovary.
Oh, you may say, what's the big deal? After all, most people probably forget who wrote Madame Bovary as soon as they toss the book into the used book pile for donation to the library sale. But I know stuff like that. I remember stuff like that. Flaubert was said to have spent afternoons pondering the placement of a comma, which always makes me feel better whenever I'm stuck in the upteenth revision of whatever it is I'm working on.
And the worst part was... I couldn't jog it out of my memory, either. The dogs finished their breakfast and looked up at me, ready to go out. I put down my dish towel, and where my mind used to be was a big black blank. I stared at the dogs, racking my mind. I know this, I said to myself over and over. I know it.
I would swear to you I heard my dog Buddy say - in my mind's ear of course - It begins with an F - but if I told you that, you'd think I wasn't only forgetful, but crazy as well. At any rate, painful letter by painful letter, I dragged the name F-L-A-U-B-E-R-T out of my muddy mind and have resolved never to miss a game of Jeopardy, if I can remember to watch it, of course, again.