The older I get, the more effort it takes to keep myself together. I tend to misplace things more often and have had to adapt to not finding them in logical places. When my traveling glasses went missing, I searched high and low, trying to retrace my steps and remember the last time I had them. The following morning I discovered them resting on a carton of eggs in the refrigerator but have absolutely no memory of putting them there. I've looked at this from every angle but simply can't find a way to make it the animals' fault.
It's distressing to realize that I can do things which make little or no sense and not realize it. It would be more distressing if I didn't know so many people who share this doubtful talent - at a time in my life when absent mindedness is of the least use to me, I seem to be cultivating it naturally, like crabgrass. I spend a precious few hours balancing my check book in order to pay the bills then after carefully addressing and stamping envelopes, throw the whole works out along with the junk mail. I step out of the shower only to discover I've forgotten the towels and just last week I took the wrong cat to the vet's. I can't remember my cell phone number and have to stop and think to remember how old I am. I've given up on remembering birthdays altogether and am often dismayed to find my keys on the wrong side of the front door. Names, even of people I saw every day for years, now elude me and forgetting where I parked during a trip to the grocery store has become an alarmingly frequent occurrence.
I want to think that I'm overburdened and have too much to do to keep it all in my head and while that's partly true, the more fundamental explanation is that after 60 years, my memory card is full and I'm out of storage space. I'm in serious need of a download.
But where to put the trivia, the useless data, the nonsense, while preserving the memories that matter and the day to day facts that I need. Perhaps in the future, memory can be genetically altered to include an on/off switch - we would be able to touch our nose and click our heels and instantly access the needed information. Nothing would be misfiled or deleted and everything would be just a gesture away. If someone were to ask me who taught Charlton Heston to drive a chariot, I would be able to access that useless bit of trivia without it taking up valuable memory space. I could recite the only 4 words in the English language that begin with the letters d and w, the first few lines of "The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere", and I could tell you what JFK International AIrport used to be called - all without sacrificing a bit of RAM or forgetting what I'm supposed to say when the telephone rings.
It's distressing to realize that I can do things which make little or no sense and not realize it. It would be more distressing if I didn't know so many people who share this doubtful talent - at a time in my life when absent mindedness is of the least use to me, I seem to be cultivating it naturally, like crabgrass. I spend a precious few hours balancing my check book in order to pay the bills then after carefully addressing and stamping envelopes, throw the whole works out along with the junk mail. I step out of the shower only to discover I've forgotten the towels and just last week I took the wrong cat to the vet's. I can't remember my cell phone number and have to stop and think to remember how old I am. I've given up on remembering birthdays altogether and am often dismayed to find my keys on the wrong side of the front door. Names, even of people I saw every day for years, now elude me and forgetting where I parked during a trip to the grocery store has become an alarmingly frequent occurrence.
I want to think that I'm overburdened and have too much to do to keep it all in my head and while that's partly true, the more fundamental explanation is that after 60 years, my memory card is full and I'm out of storage space. I'm in serious need of a download.
But where to put the trivia, the useless data, the nonsense, while preserving the memories that matter and the day to day facts that I need. Perhaps in the future, memory can be genetically altered to include an on/off switch - we would be able to touch our nose and click our heels and instantly access the needed information. Nothing would be misfiled or deleted and everything would be just a gesture away. If someone were to ask me who taught Charlton Heston to drive a chariot, I would be able to access that useless bit of trivia without it taking up valuable memory space. I could recite the only 4 words in the English language that begin with the letters d and w, the first few lines of "The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere", and I could tell you what JFK International AIrport used to be called - all without sacrificing a bit of RAM or forgetting what I'm supposed to say when the telephone rings.
Senior moments strike randomly and there is no early warning system. Once they have - as the fighter pilots like to say - "target aquired", go gracefully and maintain as much dignity as you can for the return trip. People who love you will understand and with a little luck, others won't notice.
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