My grandma likes to joke that the only part of her that gets better with age is her forgetter.
I agree my forgetter has been improving as well. I mentioned to a friend a couple weeks ago that I need to note names of things or I will forget when I go to look for it – no matter how hard I try to remember. She told me she has the same problem and attributes it to having to remember so damn many things.
I like to believe that’s it. Afterall, I’ve got Spanish verbs to learn. Dozens of passwords to store in my brain. I’m even supposed to “know something about everything,” according to my boss (though ideally I’d know everything about everything).
I’m good at remembering to-dos, commitments and important dates. I will remember that I need to return those yoga pants I bought. And that I’m meeting Navani for Bosu Bootcamp at 6:15 on Monday at Fort Greene Crunch. And that Derek’s birthday is coming up.
But I won’t remember the name of the author you recommended to me. Or the muscles my trainer told me I need to strengthen or the specific exercises he told me to do. I have Google. I could probably figure both out with a little searching.
I also need to put more effort into practicing Spanish verbs and pronunciation. Hell, I’m having trouble remembering the alphabet! I’ve been bringing my notes with me to practice on the subway. Yesterday I spent a good chunk of time with Google Translate’s pronunciation button. I think I’ve got “nosotras” and “refrigerador” down now. Thank goodness this is a for-fun class with no tests or grades.
But, hey, at least I know my sister’s cat’s birthday, the definition of “osmosis” and the names of the Jolie-Pitt children.
I’m a journalist, content strategist, doting auntie, amateur bobsledder, fitness enthusiast, and wannabe health nut (who loves chocolate and pizza too much to fully commit). I don't want you to think my life is perfect. It's not.