Did you know about the earthquake in San Francisco? 1989. I didn’t. Pork Chop told me. I was in California that year, in Los Angeles. I wasn’t drunk.
But I had to have known at some point. I just had to let this pass as one of those things…until I reread one of my short stories. “Why, who’s this Ann? Never heard of her before. ‘Ann’? I don’t know any ‘Ann’. Oooh — aheheheee! Guess I kinda forgot I named my character Ann!”
Then there was yesterday when I saw a friend who’s my age on Face Book. “She’s hot for 49! I ah, I’m 49, too? Right? Am I? I was 48. Can’t, remember – wait – shit. 2012, subtract 1962 carry the one – good Lord I am 49!” I’ll be fucking fifty in November. I will be 50. Well. Memory loss can be useful at times.
Not to worry. I don’t believe I have dementia, only lack of sleep and some intense preoccupation. Don’t be putting Auntie Sandee Sword-Chinned Bitch out to pasture yet for goodness sake!