It’s a burden I carry. It’s my Achilles heel. It’s almost every explanation as to why I didn’t do something right, get somewhere on time, or put something away.
I just forgot.
My parents did a great job documenting my upbringing. There are tons of videos and pictures of me as a child, so it’s nice to be able to have a tangible photo to jog my memory, and explain things like why I thought it was a good idea to get cornrows AFTER I got home from vacation in Florida.
That’s a story for a different time, however.
When thinking about my earliest memory, it would most likely be a story about food making it or not making it into my mouth, and my mom subsequently cleaning up the mess I made only to realize she’d be cleaning up my messes for the next eighteen years and then into my adult life.
So rather than bore you with that mumbojumbo, I want to talk about the shambles of my life, and the things I always seem to forget.
Why I walked into a room.
This happens every day; without fail. I will walk into a room at some point, stare blankly at everything, and not know in the slightest why I am there. Also, a good thing to note: it does not jog your memory if you slowly twirl in circles looking at all the objects in the room. It just makes you dizzy.
What I’m supposed to get at the grocery store.
This would be super helpful. Regardless of how many lists I write down for myself, I always end up wandering up and down each aisle in the store – always stopping in the snack aisle for too long – and then inevitably leaving with a flank steak, birthday cake Oreos, and a block of Swiss cheese. All I needed was cereal.
To fill up my gas tank before it’s too late.
Do I ever fill up my car all the way? Nope. Am I really good at playing the neutral game? Yes. I can coast in neutral and make a tank last double time if needed. A good skill to learn, in my opinion. Also a good skill to learn: filling up your gas tank so you don’t have to rely on slight inclines and declines in order to keep your car moving.
Wine will get you drunk.
If I had a dollar for every time I said, “Oh, I’ll only have one glass with dinner.” I’d be rich. It starts off as a flavor addition to my post-work meal, next thing you know, the bottle is empty and I’m passed out on my living room rug with the TV still on and my dinner half-eaten.
Check my bank account.
I pretty much ignore everything that has to do with personal finances. My credit cards are always with me, and they give me a false sense of wealth because in my mind, when I don’t see physical dollars disappearing from my wallet, it means that those dollars are still in my bank account. Except that’s not how it works at all.
Not to drunk dial my parents.
At this point, my mom knows I’m drunk dialing her and just cuts me off mid-sentence saying she has to do something more important like watch Ellen DeGeneres or file her nails.
Turn off the oven.
But really though, we’re in 2014 and we don’t have an oven that turns itself off? I thought humanity was smarter than that. Moreover, I think other people are just smarter than me. They probably make a point to turn off the oven; I find it more important to hover over the stove with a spoon in hand shoveling the freshly made meal into my mouth. There is no time for plates. There is no time for sitting down. There is only food and it needs to be consumed.
… and then I forgot the rest of my list.