Today I took a fun and nostalgic trip down memory lane while cleaning out and organizing my hope chest - the one my beloved Papa made me for my 18th birthday - and that has been stuffed with every single item of sentimental value to me ever since.
That's a lot of stuff, people.
(And yes, we do exciting things around here on national holidays.)
I got completely caught up going through love notes from Russell, my wedding planning binder, old cards, LOTS of photos, the diary I wrote in from 1991-93 (age 12 to 13 1/2 - which seems to have been a very boy-crazy time for me...), my "friendship book" from Junior High, and my yearly calendars from 1995-98 that detailed every.single.thing.I.ever.did.and.with.whom. Complete with smiley faces, hearts, and multiple exclamation points.
Good golly, I was thorough!
Reading through them brought back so many memories; it was amazing how many little details I could recall once my mind was triggered.
Like this night in October, 1996. I remember the entire evening, including the moment when one of the guys accidentally kicked over their empty drink bottle at the back of the theater and it went rolling loudly alllllll the way down to the front of the theater. We about died laughing. (Until we did die, from fright, because sheesh, those lions made us jump!)
Or this night in November, 1997, where I tried Persian food for the first, and hopefully last time in my life.
Some moments were very easy to recall...
|October 1995 - licensed to drive!|
But one thing I noticed was a bit alarming.
Over a period of two years, it appears that I cleaned for a lady named Molly on an almost weekly basis. This surprised me, mostly because no memory was triggered. None whatsoever. In fact, not only do I have zero recollection of this job, I have no idea who Molly is.
WHAT THE HECK?!! What kind of memory issues do I have going on here? I can remember almost all of the movies I saw each year (and there were a ton, like 3-5 a month!), but not a two-year steady job and employer? I am concerned, people!
So concerned in fact, that I've eaten 1/4 of a bag of white chocolate chips while pondering this mystery.