I often do my best thinking while doing innocuous tasks like doing the laundry, the dishes, vacuuming, etc. Tonight, while doing the dishes a strange thought popped into my head. You see, it’s kind of a running joke between my boyfriend and me: I have a bad memory. (It’s also why I write lists like crazy so I don’t forget what I need to do or finish. At least I’m organized because I know how badly I could screw up!)

Oh, I’ll remember really useless things like Zac Hanson’s birthday (October 22nd, 1985) or that the Sagrada Familia cathedral is a work of Gaudi. Or that my sisters and I gave up family vacations so we could have a family dog.

But when it comes to dates, I’m often stumped. When did we start dating? My boyfriend knows. I still don’t. I’m the man of our relationship, looks like. I do know when his birthday is, though, no worries. But… somewhere at the end of October is when we started dating. That’s all I could tell you. I could be wrong. It could be September. All I remember is that it was in Fall.

Every once in a while I have mini panic attacks that I’m going to end up like my grandfather: with Alzheimer’s. Because my memory already sucks.

Tonight, I had a mini panic attack. And then clarity amidst calming soap bubbles: I forget because, in this day and age, there is too much urgency. Everything is urgent. Everything needs to be finished ASAP. So when I do finish those things, I file them away.

I never crammed in school, but darn if this isn’t probably what it felt like.

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