I spent ten minutes the other morning looking for my reading glasses.
I checked the kitchen counter. I checked my nightstand. I looked in the bathroom, in the car, and in the pocket of the jacket I’d worn the day before.
They were on top of my head.
If you just laughed a little, or maybe winced, you already know what I mean. The keys that turn up in the refrigerator. The word that sits right on the tip of your tongue and won’t come, no matter how long you wait for it.
Or walking into a room and standing there, completely blank, with no earthly idea what you came in for.
For a while, I worried about it more than I let anyone see. I’d never been like this. I was the one who remembered every birthday and never lost my keys.
So when it started, a small and frightened part of me lay awake at night wondering what it meant.
It turned out to mean something far more ordinary than I feared. And once I understood that, I stopped trying to fix my memory (Though I still look after my health, I made peace with the idea that this might just be a normal part of where I am right now).
I started fixing my house instead.
That one change helped me more than anything else I tried. Let me tell you what I learned, and what I did about it.
It Turns Out Most of Us Are Going Through This
The first thing that helped me w