remember me?

There were at least three instances the past week when I caught myself thinking, Hey, I should blog about this. Which I never did. And now I don’t remember those supposedly bloggable things.

I read that some people, creative folk mainly, keep a notebook and pen handy for capturing good ideas if and when they pop up in the course of the day. Nowadays, there’s the omnipresent cellphone for taking notes whether through texting or, if you’re weird enough, voice recording. I have a PDA phone and yet I’ve allowed many light-bulb thoughts, blog-related or otherwise, to fleet to oblivion. Silly me always believes what the lazy part of me (which is by no means a small part) whispers: Oh, you’ll remember it – if it’s any good, it should be memorable.

But! The issue isn’t whether or not an idea is memorable — the issue is my memory! My brain sometimes goes on auto-snooze mode (much more often now that I’m thirty), and I forget little things, like where I left my house key… whether or not I unplugged the flat iron (don’t tell my housemates!)… where my sign pen or USB thumb drive is… Β or, uhm, what is this post about?

Lame, I know. Sorry. Really, this is just me and my valiant attempt at breaking the blogging dryspell… again. But ’tis true: I’m forgetful.

Thanks for not forgetting me though πŸ™‚


  1. Aha, so it isn’t age! Being forgetful, that is. You’re 30 and I’m . . . (nevermind!) and I forget all the things you forget! Nice to see you back, Aleks!

    thanks, ate grace! πŸ™‚ sillyserious


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