Monday, February 9, 2009

Always something there to remind me




















Some things are cemented in your memory, solid as can be. You couldn’t shake them if you tried. Unfortunately, you probably don’t have a great deal of control over the process. Over the years your mind has latched onto whatever it’s enjoyed, been annoyed by, and found catchy or shiny, then carefully filed it away with intense avidity, hoarding otherwise needed brain space and filling it with all sorts of mental detritus. This explains why you may be able to hear a song on the radio that you haven’t encountered in years and enthusiastically know its every lyric. You unwittingly tote old phone numbers, addresses and recipes; insane amounts of arcane trivia; the names of thousands of people you’ll never see again; way too many plot lines; intense recollections of various illnesses and injuries and a pretty flush supply of statistics on various subjects. This isn’t even taking into account all the brain space you’ve killed, and what’s taken up with opinions, cravings, petty jealousies, thoughts about food and sex, and your run of the mill daily angst. It’s no wonder the practical stuff often eludes you, leaving you with that “Did I leave the oven on/take that pill/pick up my child?” thing. No one as smart as you are should be doing any sort of mental fumbling.

Enter the
invisible clock. You might not have seen it, but it’s there, with its vibe & beep available in adjustable strengths so you can control the intensity of your reminder. With up to a dozen daily notifications, it’s almost like you ran a partial defrag program on your cloudy memory and are starting to get it together. After all, there are some things you just don’t ever want to forget, like where you put this clock after use. Finding one’s invisible items can often take up even more time than remembering the important stuff.