This sittin in a desk thing is tough. My handwriting got steadily worse throughout the week, my tailbone I am convinced, is bruised beyond recognition (although I suppose I wouldn't be able to identify my own tailbone in a line up now that I think about it), and I am fully expecting to come down with The Black Lung, which will have passed onto me from the lady across the aisle who was hacking up her kidneys. My back aches. My eyes are crossed from concentrating. Also, I'm concerned I will not retain anything of what my employers spend several hundreds dollars for me to learn. I refuse to go to staff meeting this week, for fear of being put on the spot. I can't go anyway. I have The Black Lung.
My memory is notoriously hideous. Most people don't remember anything before they were two or three. I don't remember much of anything from before 1995. There are some jumbled images of jelly shoes, friendship bracelets (and my mom saying, 'take those nasty things off, you look like a Christmas tree!'), the singer Tiffany, tight jeans with zippers on the ankles, The Cosby Show, and our pet chickens. My sister says all the time,
'Hey, do you remember when -' pause. Sadly shakes her head, 'Nevermind. Of course you don't.'
The only logical explanation is, I was abducted by aliens at some point. They erased my memories to use for their own selfish, ill gotten, alien-y, purposes. Evidently this runs in the family (the abduction thing) because not only is there some
Anyway, in attempt to find enough real estate space in my brain, I figure I need to do an inventory of what is taking up all my gray matter and do a little spring cleaning. Two piles coming up. One to keep and one to kick to the curb.
THINGS MY BRAIN NEEDS TO KEEP:
1. Song lyrics. This kind of knowledge is important because it's amazing how often I need it. Just the other day I was having a heated debate with four different girlfriends over who sang When I Look Into Your Eyes. The problem was, they were all thinking of Bad English, which was in fact, correct, but I was thinking of Firehouse's song of the same title (or close) and anarchy ensued. You are welcome for putting that song in your head.
2. How to thread a sewing machine. I just think muscle memory is cool.
3. How to drive a stick shift. Because forgetting would be embarrassing.
4. Long division. Because it's like the only dang thing I can do on a fifth grader's math homework, so it's really all I can contribute to their education at this point. Unless they want to thread a sewing machine or know who sang When I Look Into Your Eyes, which in my opinion, is more important than knowing what time the dumb train arrived at the station anyway. Don't they have train schedules if you have that kind of question?
5. How to find the best deals EVAH at thrift stores. This is true knowledge, folks. Anybody can shop at Walmart. It takes skillz to shop at Goodwill, and by golly, I have those skillz in spades.
6. French braiding. Which is also muscle memory, so I'm not sure it counts, but just in case, I want to keep it. Because I like doing hairstyles in my sister's hair that make her eyes pull back to the back of her pointy little head and fasten it with a scrunchy (the braid, not her eyes).
7. Tim McGraw. Lately he's been looking a little less panicked in there. Sweet little fellow. A little twitchy, but sweet.
WHAT TO TOSS:
1. Two years of Latin that MY HOMESCHOOLING TYRANT OF A MOTHER MADE ME TAKE. I retained nothing actually, so apparently I tossed it all already. This was proven when Mike asked me once what E Pluribus Unum meant. I yelled out, "Seize the day!"
I don't think I'm college material.
2. How to tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue.
3. Every single line in The Princess Bride, Willow, and the Leo DiCaprio version of Romeo and Juliet. I am too old and too happily married to be crushin on Cary Elwes, Val Kilmer, and Leo anyhow. Why are you rolling your eyes and bringing up Tim? This is my blog, you're not allowed to talk.
4. How to speak Pig Latin. EizeSay the ayDay! No, wait. I don't think that's right. See? I DIDN'T EVEN RETAIN PIG LATIN KNOWLEDGE!!!! There is something wrong with me. I need a cat scan or something. Maybe I have amnesia. Maybe I'm Jason Bourne. Maybe I can kill you four different ways with macaroni. You'd probably better be nice to me just in case.
That's all for now. There was more, but I forgot.