Now what did I forget about this time?
Ihave a recurring dream. In it, I’m in college, walking down the street with my wife (who I didn’t meet until after college) and Danny Devito (who I didn’t meet before or after college), feeling tall, when I suddenly remember that I signed up for a class, went once or twice, but have failed to go any more for the semester. And the final for the class is in an hour.
I can’t really recall exactly what happens after that point in the dream
— I usually wake up in a hot sweat, then walk face-first into the closet door on my way to the bathroom. I consulted an online “dream analyzer” about my dream/nightmare and it came up with this reason/result: You’re nuts. A distinct possibility.
But a more probable root is my penchant for forgetting things. It has come to the point that I forget so many things — appointments, birthdays, anniversaries, entire weeks, holiday seasons, my middle name — that I spend a lot of time worrying about what I’ve forgotten.
Every afternoon around 3 p.m., my mind wanders through the same tired cycle.
“Okay, mind, I don’t like you and you don’t like me, but let’s work together for once and remember something that I’m sure we’re forgetting,” I say aloud to myself and anyone within earshot.
I then begin to think about what I possibly could be forgetting. Have I lost my keys today? No. Have I forgotten to pay a bill today? Of course. Am I wearing clothes? Yes, but what were you thinking? Was I supposed to pick up the kids from school?
Uh oh. Was I? OK, let’s go down the list. Oldest child? No. She’s in college. Second child? No. He has a car. Third child? No. He has practice. Fourth child? Uh, ah, oh my, that’s it. I have forgotten to pick up our fourth child from school.
I get up and start to walk out the door to pick up our youngest, most neglected child. Then my mind finally decides to join the exercise, and I recall that we don’t have a fourth child.
So, the good news is: We don’t have four children.
But I had to forget something. Did I forget my glasses? No, I remember losing them a week ago. They are small, round and glassy. If you find something that meets that description please contact me on my lost cellphone.
Did I forget something my wife told me to do? I don’t think so, I would have received a reminder by now (she knows me).
Should I be worrying about something I forgot that I can’t remember?
Exasperated, I put my sweaty head in my hands. I then look down and a sight jostled my old memory glands: I wrote down what I needed to remember on my hand. I’m a genius!
Unfortunately, I wrote this reminder on my hand, which was now sweaty and smeared. The only part I could make out was: “Write column about ...,” then a blur of black ink.
Hmm. Now, what was I going to write a column about?