I forgot my mom’s address yesterday. Had to fill it out on a form, and I couldn’t remember the name of the street.
Granted, it’s not the house I grew up in, but I did live there for a few summers.
It’s bothering me.
Making matters stranger, I have been working on memorizing a map of Iraq. I can tell you that Ramadi, Fallujah and Karbala are all near each other on the Euphrates, and that Samarra is north of Baghdad on the Tigris. And that Mosul is in the far north, and Basra is in the far south.
I’m now thinking that the new information I’m trying to learn is pushing out the old.
Like one more basketball shoved into an already packed upstairs laundry chute, each new ball added to the top is pushing one out into the laundry room.
I shove in a Karbala. I lose a mom.
So I think I’m going to stop learning. And stop reading.
Instead, I will spend more time relaxing.
I will sit and eat and talk about meaningless things with relatives.
If I can find their house.