Failing to Remember

January, I am in you.

Tilly went back to college on Monday. Oscar and Tallulah went back to school yesterday.

The early start nearly killed us, as did the obligatory after school classes and having to cook a proper tea.

I escaped to the pub quiz in the evening and managed not to fall asleep on everyone, which I think was a victory of sorts.

It was one of those quizzes where there were questions that I knew the answers to, and yet could I think of them?

No. I bloody couldn’t.

In the music round we had name the artist and I could not, for the life of me, remember the name of Vampire Weekend, even though I have all their albums, knew the name of the song, and could even give you a blow by blow account of the video for that particular song too. It was so incredibly frustrating.

Ditto the picture round where it was name that film and I stared forever at the still and knew exactly what it was from. I named all the rest of the cast, gave a brief synopsis of the plot, and acted out my favourite scene. Could I have told you the film was called Boogie Nights? Not if my life depended on it.

It was incredibly argh making. I’m fully resigned to the fact that there are several trillion things I don’t know and will never know in a million years. This was amply demonstrated in both the sports and maths round (bleurgh), but it is so astonishingly demoralising when you absolutely know you know something and yet you just cannot drag that information up from the depths of your brain.

I can’t even blame age, or early onset dementia. I’ve always been this way. It’s why the word ‘thingy’ and extravagant hand gestures make up large parts of my conversational style.

I have a million things to tell you, but I am waiting on the Ocado man to deliver my groceries and I am nursing a small headache, so am easily distracted. I may be back later with more inconsequential tales from the front line. If I can remember any of them.

 

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