Tuesday, April 8, 2014

What Was That Word?

How many of us have sat there and struggled to find that word.  It's on the tip of your tongue.  Starts with a...?  Sounds like...?  It's...  Something about...  Ugh!

Nope.  Nothing.  Drawing a blank.  It's a secret I don't want to keep.

I found myself at that road block this morning.  Struggling for nearly an hour searching the locked files in my brain, trying to open them just a crack for the slightest hint.  Google can't help when you don't know what you're looking for.

I ended up looking at funny Bigfoot memes and still don't know how I got there.

Is it age?  Lack of sleep?  What causes us to lose that one important little tidbit, just as you need it the most?

I could never go on Jeopardy.  I'd lock up like a mute and stand there with a blank stare the whole time.  "I'll take Answers That Elude me for $600, Alex."

This morning I must have had an out-of-body experience where I cleaved my skull open to physically look for the word because the massive pounding I suffered when I finally gave up was excrutiating.  And still I have nothing.

What's really bad is when you forget someone's name....as they are approaching you.  My husband says, "Hey, isn't that your friend?"  To which I reply, "Yeah, that's.......oh shit."

I can remember that Tonto's horse was named Scout, but I can't remember why I just walked into the kitchen.  I have a variety of post-its hung all over the house, stuck to my phone when I leave the house, on my computer monitor, the bathroom mirror, the refrigerator.

What really bothers me is when I go to write it down and forgot what I went to write.  Standing there with a pen in hand, poised over the paper.

I blame information overload.  When I was younger, we had to remember phone numbers of a select few.  Then it was phone numbers and one pin number.  Now?  I have to change my password every other week, and that's always fun.  

"Password must contain one capital letter, six symbols, five song titles, the meaning of life, the plot to The Great Gatsby, and a hug."  

Followed by my computer asking, "Do you want this computer to remember the password?"  Hell yeah.

Then I go to write it on a post-it (just in case) and forget what I created.

What's the bigger insult?  That you forget in the first place or that you remember at three a.m.?  How many nights have I woken up shouting random things?  I'd tell you, but I forgot.


My husband is always confused, slightly afraid, and yet I feel so triumphant when it finally comes to me.  I feel empowered, like I just won a million dollars or.... wrestled a T-rex to the ground.


It's like I've overcome Alzheimer's.  I finally beat it back and can remember things.  Not that I have the energy to write it down in the middle of the night.  Even if I did, I forgot to put a pad and pen by the bedside.


My husband thinks I have Turrets Syndrome, but it only strikes in the middle of the night.  There's no point trying to explain why I shouted a random word since he wasn't in on the original struggle to search for it.  He wouldn't understand and yet I feel trying to enlighten him would only make waking him up worse, so I roll over and go back to sleep.  

Peacefully, of course, now that the war in my brain has been resolved.

He bought me a day planner so I'd remember things I had to do.  I forgot where I put it.  Really.

We all struggle with remembering things at one time or another, the proper spelling of a word, complex math equations, the name of someone you knew twenty years ago...

When I walk in a room and forget why I was there in the first place, then walk out and remember, then walk back in and forget again, it deserves a profane word.  Or two.  

Maybe six or seven while throwing something breakable!

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