Memba?

Memory is an interesting invention. Obviously when the divine design team was planning ye olde humans, they wanted to have a little fun with the final product. They seemed to have left a bunch of easter eggs in our heads, kind of like the Microsoft design team always does.

Hmmmmm.

Has anyone seen where I put my pen?

Anyway one of the things they messed with seems to be the whole memory phenomenon. It ranges in strength from human to human, from perfect recall down to “What did you just say?”. And it seems to have different shelf lives depending on the person. But there are some features of memory that seem universally true. For instance the quality of memory is proven to be inversely proportional to how old you are, how important it is that you DO remember, how much you WANT to remember, and finally how embarrassing it might be if you don’t remember something you SHOULD remember. I for one have mastered the art of conveniently forgetting things that I would rather not remember, which seems to go hand in hand with its karmic opposite, which means I also frequently forget things that would make my life so much easier. Minor things like people’s names and why the hell I just entered that room.

Yesterday, we had a gentleman come and fix the bottom of our garage door, which was a bit rotted. While he was at it we also had him put in a garage door opener. He didn’t have anything else scheduled for the day so he took his time and did a very good job. Since having a garage door opener means now one can’t open the garage non-electronically (unless you disengage the opener), my mother decided she would also like a keypad to manually open the garage from the front, which would make things easier in the winter. Easy enough thing to do, but he did not have one with him so he agreed to come back the next day (today).

He originally said he would not be here until late afternoon, because he had a busy day. I guess he finished his work early because he managed to swing by earlier than anticipated. My mother went out to meet him, and was amused when he got out of his truck, and promptly went to the garage door to … open it. He was a bit surprised when it wouldn’t open. He commented on it then asked my mother if it was locked.

She was a little at a loss as to how to answer him.

Fortunately he seemed to do an internal forehead slap and eventually remembered why he could not open it, seeing as he was kind of the cause of that. Gave me an idea for a blog post!

Now if I can only remember what I was going to write about.

About these ads