Memory Monday continues...or will it?

Do you want to hear something really sad? I know I'm getting old because I'm really losing my memory. I used to be able to recall everything with perfect clarity. Most of my siblings are older, so I was still young when they got married and moved out. I knew every sibling's birthday, every sibling's spouse's birthday and their children's birthdays, I knew their phone numbers by heart, and I could even remember their addresses. Now-a-days, in the age of cell phones and speed dial, I can barely remember my own phone number let alone anyone else's. I'm forgetting the little details of life, too. I used to be able to remember every detail of conversations I had with people, or of things that happened at school or with friends, etc, but now I can barely remember what happened yesterday. You all may think I'm exaggerating, but when someone was retelling a story and I had been at the original event, I used to wonder why they would mix up little details of that story. Why would they say that So-And-So said something, when it was Such-And-Such who said it? And why would they say we ran into them in the produce section of Smith's, when we were clearly in the dairy isle at Albertsons? But now I'm finding myself doing the same things. I can't remember exactly who said what, or how long ago, or where we were, or just exactly what was said...you get the picture. Is it just a sign that I'm getting older? Or am I letting my brain go to waste? The latter possibility worries me, clearly, because I should be using my brain now more than ever. And don't even get me started on the names and faces from high school I've forgotten. You'd think Facebook would've helped me in that situation, but you'd be wrong.

So, I'll still be writing memories, but I'm going to have to start looking back through my journals, which are full of a lot of things that won't really interest you, like who my friends and I used to like in high school. Oh yes, I was well trained in the art of stalking long before blog-stalking became popular. Ok, I shouldn't call it stalking, really, as that implies we followed boys for days figuring out their lives and analyzing every action. We weren't that crazy. It was more like admiring from afar. We never followed anyone, but we certainly did carry out a drive-by or two...and I'm going to stop now. That's enough sharing for today.