mikao's world

Remembrance of a Memory

Every once in awhile I wake up in the middle of the night and have a panic attack. They generally suck. I haven't had one for a very long time. Usually they only happen when something extremely stressful is going on in my life.

Like last summer when I had a panic attack 5 times a week for two weeks at 5:22AM every moring. Yes, that's right, 5:22AM. I have this freakishly weird ability to tell the exact time at night/in the morning. Which, you know, sometimes comes in handy but often is more weird than helpful.

Anyways, I digress. This morning I woke up panicky, but (phewff) not exactly panic-attacky about an almost car accident I had at least 9 if not 10 years ago.

I found it very odd. Not the almost-car-accident, but the fact that I was thinking about it and it was making me anxious this morning.

Sometimes I think it's interesting all the information our brains store up and then we remember at odd times.

Like the fact that Mark Manikel borrowed my ruler in grade 6 and never gave it back. And Justin-the-hotttest-guy-in-school had a green sweater very similar to one of mine in our last year of high school. And my friend Jessica got a spiral perm just like mine and I was sure that meant I was cool in grade 11. And Angeline in my older sister's class used to pick her scabs all the time. And eat them! And Kristy in the Baby Sitters Club books always wore tennis sneakers. And Lila Fowler in Sweet Valley Twins never wore anything more than once a month and the Unicorns always wore something purple every day because purple was the colour of royalty. And we had coleslaw and chicken the time I ate at the Shriner's Temple in sixth grade. My cousin Danny had gross taco salad at his wedding when I was thirteen.

Like do I need to carry around this information any more? And when I get old and my brain doesn't work quite so good as it used to, will I be telling people this weird stuff? Because right now it's kind of funny that I remember Miss Parnetta told Justin "Tu est en retarde" when he was late for French class in grade five and he answered back "No I am not a retard!" But I don't know how funny it will when I babble that off to someone when I'm 90 at the old folks home, or when I can't get to sleep in 15 years and am telling my husband weird stories of things I remember when he has to work in the morning.

I hope he has a sense of humour. I don't know how he couldn't when he marries me, after all.

:)