I once had a minute to spare and a blank post-it note.
That would make me depressed at how shitty my social life is/has been.
My list is typed out onto my PalmPilot desktop application. Yes I still use that, the desktop app, anyway. A lot of girls I don’t recall, until I see their name on that list and then the memories come back immediately.
My list, by the way, is of all the “girlfriends” I’ve had. As I look at it now, the Willie Nelson song goes through my head, “Of all the girls I’ve loved before…”
It’s one way to reflect back on my life. Some good memories, some better ones. And one truly awful, crazed-bitch whacko one. Hmmph!
This amusing?:
Twenty-five years ago I received electroconvulsive therapy (ECT); saved my life. Anyway, memory loss about 6-8 weeks, and I lost a whole bunch of time before that, because, as my shrink later told me, during balls-deep clinical depression you don’t register impressions well at all.
Long story short, woman introduces herself to me at party, looks strangely at me, surprised I don’t remember her. My usual one-liner is “Why, were we lovers?”
For the first time I got a serious reaction. She asked her husband to make himself scarce. She had lived with me for four months until a week before I checked in the hospital.
It was a fascinating discussion we had, about a separate life. Something I also found interesting, and somewhat comforting relating to my psychic permanence, is that she physically looked like the kind of girl I was always attracted to and had dated. (My wife looks completely different, FWIW).
Years ago, I wrote up a list of all the women I dated. I do have a mental list of all those I’ve slept with, but it’s fairly small.