In a million years
There are periods of time in my life in general that are a blur. James remembers small details much better than me. He’ll remember things I say or do, or even small things that happened while we were out. I have always been good at remembering names, faces, numbers and addresses, though strangely enough, I was awful at remembering dates in history class. But to this day, I remember the phone number of my best friend in fifth grade, and I remember the birthday of someone I don’t talk to anymore, and I remember the email address of someone I talked to once over the internet, and I remember the date of someone else’s first date — this kind of thing is strange, it’s peculiar — like there are small memory banks in my brain that are designated for certain types of information, and whatever doesn’t fit in a memory bank will simply fall out, and be forgotten.
James remembers exactly what Andrew Stockdale of Australian band Wolfmother said at a concert we both went to, when he said some snide stuff about radio station Triple J. I got the damn gist of it. He remembers lyrics of songs right from the off — at least, compared to me. I have to think about it. James remembers songs after listening to them once. I’ll play him a song he’s seen live once, and he’ll know he’s heard it before. I feel like I don’t do that so well. Above all, James remembers when, where and how we met, and I completely forgot about the incident until it came up in conversation long after we began our relationship. It’s strange.
I almost wonder, if I forget, is that stuff supposed to matter? Even if we’re not all retrograde amnesiacs, maybe there’s a reason why some things are left behind as we pick up whatever is important and move.
I’ve been listening to a lot of new music lately, which reminds me that I haven’t been to a gig in almost a month, which is strange to me. It hasn’t been like this for a year. I’m torn between going to see Last Dinosaurs and The Griswolds and going to class, even though I’m pretty sure I know what I’m going to choose.
Since I started Project Simplify Georgie, cutting out bits and pieces from my life, making myself less stressed, it seems like there is actually very little happening in my life. It’s strange, that just getting rid of a bit of clutter — physically, mentally, digitally, emotionally — can clear up the way so much. I have so much time, compared to when I had all this stuff lying around. It’s not like I’ve done much, either. I’ve only deleted some online accounts, changed the way I organised things, stripped certain habits from my lifestyle, but it has made such a difference.
I find that instead of saying there isn’t enough time for anything, I start looking at things in perspective. It’s not that there isn’t enough time. The time just hasn’t come yet. I have found that due to less stress, I have been doing everything calmly, progressively. I stopped writing lists, stopped making goals. Just wanted to live. It has worked splendidly, to be honest. Instead of being chin deep in lists, I can see what needs doing, what needs to be done.
Back to classes next week.
I dread it, but I don’t dread it that much.
I just hate it.
But, life is good.