The other day I was in a meeting at work. Before getting started, I wanted to let everyone know that a certain individual was going to be late. I put my hand up to my ear, cupping it slightly.
“She’s having a …….” I said, struggling to retrieve the right word from deep within the recesses of my almost-50-year-old brain to explain her tardiness.
Thankfully, I work with a great group of folks near this same age who were willing to join in to an impromptu game of charades.
“That’s it – web cast!”, I exclaimed when someone guessed the word that had escaped me moments before.
Why is it that I can remember the phone number that I had as a child? Why can I remember the phone number the best friend I had as a child? There are so many little tidbits of minutiae in this brain that there’s no room for the current things that I need to be able to retrieve on a moment’s notice.
I’m beginning to develop a repetoire of little tricks to help me survive these forgetful days. I take more notes, sticky notes are my friend. Visual clues are especially useful to remind me of things that I need to do; if I run out of something I’ll put the empty container in my care to remind myself to pick it up on the way home from work.
So, I’ll keep relying on these little tricks and hope that my co-workers are always up for another game of charades.