This morning at the gas station (yes, the same one) a woman held the door open for me. We locked eyes and she smiled swiftly. 'Well hi Jessica, how've you been?'
I burbled something and nodded and she zoomed off . I went in search of coffee. It wasn't until I was putting the lid on my cup that I realized I had no idea who she was - and I'm not sure the morning huhs? had anything to do with it.
I think my brain might be full.
Well, you can't blame it, for Pete's sakes. It's full of trifles like ancient phone numbers, words to Duran Duran songs, what we ate for dinner last night, multiplication tables and immunization schedules. It remembers things - book titles, household projects, no pink with red, table manners, how to make piecrust, websites. I can recall at a moments notice the smell of fresh-cut grass in the spring, how the sunlight striped the walls and the canopy of my bed when I was seven, my grandmother's fingers touching my arm. The melty goodness of ice cream. It knows the name of every boy and girl in my daughters' Grade One class, and can follow the plotline of (God help me) Star Wars the Clone Wars, with a side of Discovery Science. Really, my brain should have had a stress leave years ago.
I'm probably not giving it fair odds, either. Wandering around and talking pre-caffeine is never a good idea.
So, friendly lady, I'm sorry I forgot your name. But hey, the next time you want to sing any Eighties pop songs?
I'm your girl.