My memory is really good. I remember incidents from throughout my life. Like kindergarten when I was five. Marlena and Judy next door. Jimmy Olson, my best friend down on the corner in Seal Beach when I was eight years old. He had a white rat that would crawl around on his shoulders inside his T-shirt. He had a reel to reel eight millimeter movie projector, but we weren’t any good at threading the film so the cartoons didn’t come out backwards or upside down. My phone number. (It only had five digits.) Crystal clear. But now, it’s a little harder to hold on to new stuff. I meet somebody, learn their name, and the next day it’s gone. I have to hear their name again. Maybe several times. Or I set a reminder for the next day, but when it goes off the next day, I can’t remember what it’s for.
I’ve figured out what the problem is. I’m so good at remembering things, I’ve filled the memory bank. That’s it, and there is a solution. Pick out a bunch of stuff from my early childhood to forget. Make that go away, and it will free up room in the bank for new memories. Then I won’t lose count at two again when I’m putting three scoops of coffee beans in the grinder.