I just realized my previous two entries were about sitting outside, enjoying the back patio and Mother Nature in general, and more specifically about my love of the wind.
It was not my intention to be repetitive.
However, the recurring theme in these two blog entries give insight as to how my brain works.
- I have a fleeting thought
- I write about the fleeting thought
- I publish my fleeting thought
- I forget the fleeting thought
My brain is wired to completely forget something when I consider it done, unless there’s something remarkable about it, whether it be a large or small detail. I’m thinking most human brains work this way. Perhaps this is just a habit of mine, but if I’m making small talk or something and a response to a question doesn’t have something remarkable in it for me to latch onto, I’ll probably forget it.
This drive my husband insane. And, it’s something that is becoming more prevalent as I get older.
It still drives him insane.
For example, we’ll be eating lunch and I’ll casually ask how he enjoyed his workout that morning. He’ll usually throw a few numbers that are impressive at me, and tell me it was a “good workout”. There is no mention of men shaving in their underwear in the locker room or anything. My brain, processing a few hundred things at any given time (the freezer is making a noise, the washer is on the spin cycle, Truman is sitting in the middle of the floor, Jinx is looking at Truman, Lucky is looking at Jinx, I wonder what kind of cash registers they’re using at the one remaining Kmart, etc), doesn’t find anything to latch onto in the response so it doesn’t go into the memory Rolodex. At all. Five minutes later, I’ll ask him how his workout went this morning.
“You already asked me and I told you it was good”.
I used to be feel bad for asking repetitive questions, but now that he reminds me I’m repeating myself all the time I just tell him, “thank you for maintaining such an accurate timeline”. Then I’ll look just to the left of an imaginary camera, hold the pause, and then think about how my comedic timing must be pretty close to Bea Arthur’s abilities in the same arena.
We then continue the lunch.
It is not my intention to be repetitive. Ever. That’s so repetitive and worse yet, it’s boring as hell.
I just can’t help that my brain is wired that way.
