Friday, December 2, 2011

I might remember your name. Other things, maybe not

I don't have a good memory.

I know that I know things that could relate to a myriad of conversations that would validate my opinion, make me sound smarter, perhaps give the people around me confidence in the adamant dispensation of my words.

But more often than not, I don't interject my opinion, because what's an opinion that you can't back up? And when the questions start rolling in about why I think the way I'm thinking, I don't want to have to say, "I can't remember."

My short term memory sucks.

It's evidenced in many ways, but the biggest one is that I'm always writing stuff down. Always. By the end of the week, my desk is littered with Post-it notes and scrap pieces of paper with random messages, to-do things, key points from conversations and things I must not forget.

Friends and observant people I work with know this. When I say, in answer to a question, "To be honest with you..."

..."you don't remember," a good friend finishes my sentence.

I sigh. "No, I don't. But I have it in an email, I'll forward it to you ASAP."

The longer a conversation, a scenario, a meeting or an interaction marinates in my head, the better chance I have of recounting each detail.

It's something in my life I have to deal with on a conscious level. I can't pretend it doesn't exist, because it does. It means I have to circumvent its impact on my life. I have to be proactive.

So I'm armed with clearly labeled notebooks to coordinate with each title I have and my calendar. And any other documentation I might need to rely on.

What's tricky is when I have to remember what direction I entered the gas station from while traveling. That always gets me. Did I turn right to get in here or left? Bceause that's going to tell me how to get out and in what direction I need to head on the interstate/highway.

I've had to sit and think about it awhile.

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