Skip to main content

What Was That Again?

Before I started writing this post, I had an idea for a great article forming in my head. It crossed my mind while I was browsing through my HootSuite feeds, so I immediately minimized my browser, and fired up ye ole Windows Live Writer so that I could start working on it. You know how it is with these sudden bursts of inspiration; they’re as fleeting as the Madagascar golden fly (not actually a thing), and if you don’t get the details down as soon as you can, poof! they’re gone.

Which was what happened to that awesome idea I mentioned. Within a few seconds of absent-minded thinking, it was gone. Poof! Like a genie, only I didn’t get to make any of my wishes. Or a wish, even. All I did was open a stupid application.

improving short term memory loss

Is it just me, or is the ad selling something counter-intuitive? Taken from Progressive Health.

Don’t you hate it when your short-term memory (or STM, as my girlfriend calls it, which, surprisingly, is not an acronym for Stamina, as fantasy role playing games would lead you to believe) trolls you so hard that by the end of the hour, you’re pulling your face off trying to remember even a hint of what your brilliant idea was? I know I do. I hate it with such a passion that I want to flip tables in disgust and annoyance whenever it happens. If I could flip my desk, I would have already. Instead, I throw my cat (to my bed, whereupon he immediately curls up into a ball and sleeps).

The thing that annoys me the most about these lapses in short-term memory is the fact that there’s virtually nothing you can do to prevent it. Stephan Pastis, the author of Pearls Before Swine has gone to exhaustive lengths to prevent ideas from disappearing without a trace. He carries a notebook with him at all times. Every room in his house—every room—has a notebook for when these flashes of lightning brilliance strike. And it still fails.

When the ideas come at night, just before you’re about to catch up on your sleep, you’re hard-put to write it down coherently. I have my phone with me all the time, with a shortcut leading to a document dedicated to chronicling these ideas. Sometimes, though, a few seconds is all it takes to forget everything about that genius thought of yours, and you’re left standing there, looking like an idiot, mouth agape and scratching your head while looking at an empty document on your phone.

Damn you, short-term memory lapses. Damn you and your Facebook friends.

Popular posts from this blog

Maynilad Water Chronicles: The Clusterf$%#, Part 2

This is the third post in our Maynilad Water chronicles. This time, we will talk about just how inept their record keeping skills are in the face of a massive overhaul in a given area. This involves a technique used by Meralco in high-risk areas called clustering, and is efficient – if utilized correctly. Needless to say, Maynilad has yet to be able to do this.

Maynilad Water Chronicles: The Curious Case of the Disappearing Meter

One of the biggest problems I’ve encountered these past few weeks is the inexplicable inefficiency of Maynilad Water. I don’t even know where to begin; this is how impossible the situation is. So I’ll go and separate things into multiple stories. This is the first case in this series.

The Parables of Juan Flavier

I remember my grade 4 Language professor fondly, because of many things. Firstly, because his first name—Henry—was such an oddity for a ten-year old Pinoy who mostly read American books but was surrounded with names like Jose Luis, Robertino, and other such remnants of our Spanish forefathers. Secondly because he was such a strict man who liked reading a lot. In hindsight, perhaps he wasn’t really as strict as I made him out to be. I was, quite possibly, just a child who had too much respect for authority back then, and would quail from the sight of a teacher who raised his voice even by just a bit. But the most memorable thing about Mr. Avecilla (that was his last name) was that one of his weekly projects for the class was the collection of Senator Juan Flavier’s—then DOH secretary— weekly parables. I forget which paper it was his stories appeared in, but Mr. Avecilla’s demands had us children scrambling for clippings of Senator Flavier’s stories around every Friday, I think it was....