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Monday, May 11, 2015

The Daily Chai Forgot What She Was Going to Say

Today's chai was a tall and came late in the day. Better latte then never, I suppose. Like I've said, you can't control everything, not even uppity drinks. Or girls who make bad puns.

I already posted today, but now I'm going to write for tomorrow to get back on schedule. I hope you enjoyed my history lesson, even if it was a personal history and nothing that ever hit the text books. Sometimes those are the best stories anyway.

I went out with an old friend from high school tonight who is going through a similar situation to mine right now. It was great to catch up, as always. I have to say, one positive part of ending a long-term relationship is you suddenly have time to see people you haven't seen in ages, people that were maybe not on the approved list. This is a freedom I do not think I will ever be willing to give up again, which may mean I'm single for a long time.

Anyway, it was so good to see him, we were figuring it's probably been close to twenty years since we last hung out. Again, I'm reminded at how crazy fast time flies when you reach your thirties. My twenties are now a blur, although that might have more to do with how much I drank back then. On the other hand, I feel like the last six months of my life have been the slowest I've ever experienced. Time has slowed to a crawl. Funny thing, that sultry mistress, that deceptive bitch, that thing we call time.

Writing about time passing makes me think of memories, both good and bad. I have a ridiculous memory and it is both a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing when I was writing exams and could picture my study notes in my head and "read" what they said so I could then reproduce my answers on my exam sheet. It's been a blessing as I recall my children's lives thus far and can picture so many detailed events clearly in my head, like watching a film. It's a blessing when I think about my dad, six years after his death and I can still hear his laugh and exact timber of his voice when he said, "Hiya, Megs!" as I arrived at his place for a visit. However,  it's a curse when I can still picture how the ground rushed up to meet my face when I crashed off my bike last May. It's a curse when I want to forget conversations I've had in the past because they are irrelevant now, but I can remember them word for word. It doesn't help that a lot of my correspondence is over text message and I seem to have better recall for the written word than for the spoken.

The funny thing about memory though is that while I seem to have this amazing recall for certain things, I can't seem to remember to bring my fucking lunch to work.

-Megs

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