I'm the kind of person who values a good memory or two. Or 5 billion. I'm not trying to say I have a photographic memory or anything, but when a moment arises and it's something special (for me) I like to file it away in my brain to recall again on a rainy day...or a sunny day...or whenever I find something presently happening to be boring.
What happened, what was said, how I felt...and all that good shit...or bad shit...it goes both ways.
When someone close to you has "memory issues", especially when that person is your parent, forgetting things sometimes takes a very scary turn (genes scare me). "I forgot" or "I don't remember" become dirty dirty words.
This week, my mistrust of my own brain collided with my current obsession of saving money, when I bought bottle of juice at work. It was one of those glass bottles with the safety seal on the top (you know the kind you're not supposed to drink out of if you don't hear the lid pop).
I'm almost entirely sure that I twisted the bottle open on the way from the cafeteria cash register to the microwave, but sometime during the 50 seconds it took to heat up my Hot Pocket, I twisted the cap and panicked because I didn't feel the safety lid pop. At the time, I honestly didn't remember having touched the lid prior to that moment. However, instead of going back and exchanging the bottle or tossing it out altogether...I just kept on a-drinkin'...'cause them shits cost $1.79.
While drinking the potential "death juice", I recalled the time a few weeks prior to that, when I had purchased some beer, and I could have sworn I heard an object knocking against the inside of the can. Possibly a severed digit, said my crazy mind.
But again, instead of actually doing something about it (like checking to see if I could see something in the can). I continued to drink. Why? Because it's beer, and I paid good money for it.
Severed appendages will be dealt with on a case by case basis.
What happened, what was said, how I felt...and all that good shit...or bad shit...it goes both ways.
When someone close to you has "memory issues", especially when that person is your parent, forgetting things sometimes takes a very scary turn (genes scare me). "I forgot" or "I don't remember" become dirty dirty words.
This week, my mistrust of my own brain collided with my current obsession of saving money, when I bought bottle of juice at work. It was one of those glass bottles with the safety seal on the top (you know the kind you're not supposed to drink out of if you don't hear the lid pop).
I'm almost entirely sure that I twisted the bottle open on the way from the cafeteria cash register to the microwave, but sometime during the 50 seconds it took to heat up my Hot Pocket, I twisted the cap and panicked because I didn't feel the safety lid pop. At the time, I honestly didn't remember having touched the lid prior to that moment. However, instead of going back and exchanging the bottle or tossing it out altogether...I just kept on a-drinkin'...'cause them shits cost $1.79.
While drinking the potential "death juice", I recalled the time a few weeks prior to that, when I had purchased some beer, and I could have sworn I heard an object knocking against the inside of the can. Possibly a severed digit, said my crazy mind.
But again, instead of actually doing something about it (like checking to see if I could see something in the can). I continued to drink. Why? Because it's beer, and I paid good money for it.
Severed appendages will be dealt with on a case by case basis.
Comments