by mg at 11:11 PM on March 02, 2002
For some people, everything always works out. They skate through life with nary a care. Even when something bad happens, like driving your car off a bridge in Chappaquiddick, killing your date, something good always follows, like 40 years in the senate.
I hate those people.
Iím normally a very peace loving kinda guy. I didnít wish death on anyone but murderers, rapists, and Kenneth "Babyface" Edmonds. But people who have it easyÖ well, they certainly donít deserve death, but they do deserve forced repeated viewings of the Growing Pains reunion movie, Clockwork Orange style. And I want to be the one to force Kirk Cameron down their goddamn throats.
Why the sudden urge to share my urges toward torture? Well, as you are all aware, Iíve not had the brightest couple of months. That alone, is no reason to hurt someone. But, added to the growing list of Reasons My Life Sucks is the fact Iíve forgotten my ATM number.
Yes, thatís right. I often joke about having a brain tumor. Iíve got poor short term memory, I use words in inappropriate contexts, and I have to repeatedly check to make sure Iíve locked doors, turn off gas ovens, and zipped zippers because I can never remember if Iíd already done those things, or just thought about doing them. But, when Iíve got a number stuck in my head, there is nothing thatíll knock it out.
I still remember my high school girlfriendís phone number. I remember all the channels the cable stations were on in all the cities Iíve ever lived. Back in the days before domain names, I remembered IP addresses for dozens of websites. Iím a regular Rain Man when it comes to numbers.
Yet, I found myself standing in line at the bank this afternoon, struggling to remember my PIN number. ďFive, seven, oh - no. I know there is a five in there. I know there is a seven. I think there is a zero, a six and three too. But, how can that be, my number is only four digits long?Ē I ran through several combinations in my head. They all sounded right.
ďDonít stress out,Ē I thought. ďWhen you get up there, MG youíre fingers will just know the right combination. Youíve been punching it in a couple times a week for almost two years now. Hmm, maybe there is a two in there?Ē
So, when I got up to the machine, I let my fingers do the walking. I tried the first combination that popped into my headĖ wrong. I tried the second combination Ė wrong and wrong. I debated whether it was worth it try a third, and risk having the machine eat my card.
I decided, based on my stellar good fortune so far, that I wouldnít risk it. I left the bank, blank receipt in hand, no money in my wallet. Brother, can you spare a dime?
that's very, very strange. i mean, i have weird memory problems too, i almost always feel like i'm guessing when i put my PIN in, but i almost always guess right.
by kd at March 3, 2002 2:23 AM
Other things I've forgotten:
Mom's birthday (almost every year)
Parent's anniversary (ditto)
My own home phone number
The address of my old apartment, which I've been away from for about 6 months
Don't feel bad mg, I'm sure it's only a small, benign tumor.
by westernexposure at March 3, 2002 6:28 AM
ouch. I disquise my my pin as a phone number in my wallet - it's scribbled on the back of one of my business cards, with the note "when you need a prayer" - works for me.
(numbers refuse to lodge themselves in my brain... names, faces - sure... dates, phone numbers, atm data... forget about it...)
by jenn at March 3, 2002 4:43 PM
a little encypted file in the Palm or on disk could come in handy in such cases. That's what I do.
by Charles at March 4, 2002 1:50 AM