Approaching the ATM, I process a mental flowchart. Which account am I using today? What PIN is required? There’s a line, so I wait, but while waiting, I begin to doubt that I’ve remembered the correct PIN for this account. I start going through PINs and their applications. Some were based on phone numbers, prompting recall of the whole telephone number and where I lived then, triggering memory of the address and where I worked, and my office number, further driving me from certainty that I have the right number, and suddenly opening up a memory chasm which swallows the PIN I’m supposed to be using, launching me into panic about the fucking PIN number – number is redundant, you idiot – and then it’s my turn and I step up and remember —
And then it’s all good. All that worrying was for naught.
Ahh, happens to the best of us.
How bout this;
Walk through a door, forget what you wanted, walk back through and remember again – as long as you walked back through… backwards, LoL.
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Oh, yes, but more frequently, I have to return to the intention’s origins in the other room, doing the other activity. LOL – ah, memories, like the — I forget how the rest of it goes.
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