October 1, 2010

Grey Area.

Memory is a bizarre thing, but especially when it's as fickle as mine. I'll forget something within seconds of hearing it, yet remember the slightest detail about something else for years.

Just now I ran into a guy at a coffee shop who seemed familiar to me. I spoke to him in order to jog my memory, as it was clear he didn't immediately recognize me. Within seconds I remembered that his name is Greg, and he worked with me during my time at Borders back in Troy, Michigan. He worked with periodicals, and I worked with music; we almost never directly interacted in a given shift. I never once conversed with him outside of the store, and we hardly knew each other even then. This was over 12 years ago.

How can I remember Greg, completely out of context, but neither of my own parents' birthdays?

Memory is a bizarre thing, but especially when it's as fickle as mine. Wait, what?

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