I remember weird things. If someone I am interested in tells me their favourite song, I remember it. I could tell you what each of my friends got at A-level. I remember the face of somebody I have met once and barely even spoken to (and they never fail to forget me, resulting in an awkward, stilted conversation). I never forget middle names. I remember meaningless quotations from meaningless novels and the lyrics to a ridiculous amount of songs. However, I never retain any useful knowledge: I forget when I've arranged to meet up with my grammar buddy, I never remember birthdays or phone numbers or homework, I don't ever know the date. I wish I could use my superfreakingmemory in a way that would actually benefit me.
Today, there are many things I should be doing. Writing blogs is not one of them, but I'm back on the blogging bandwagon now and I fear I cannot be stopped. I was going to post a picture of my hopelessly untidy room, so that somebody would cajole me into doing something about it, but I am too ashamed. I'll let you use your imagination. The beginning of the week was a bit shit, but I'm getting into the swing of things today. I actually dried my hair, put on proper clothes and ate something that wasn't chocolate. Things are looking up!
I saw my mum yesterday, which is nice. If you like that sort of thing. She wasn't too much of a crazy, and even brought me my UPS parcel which was delivered to the wrong address. Good old Mum! Cait and I went to Stratford (where she happened to be), and in the space of about five minutes, my mother managed to mention the Labour Party, gender discrimination and new shoes. I fear that we may be the same person. This is probably why our relationship is somewhat strained at times.
I hope you have a lovely Thursday, and that you are more productive than I will be. I leave you with a snippet from my favourite album of the moment. Enjoy!
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