I know you’ve been asking yourself this. And you should be ashamed for using such foul language. No fucking couth I tell you. CRS stands for Can’t Remember Shit. It is fast becoming my greatest affliction. In fact, it has moved beyond worrisome to downright problematic.
When I was in HS I never had to study. I graduated as a member of the National Honor Society in the top 15% in my class. And I never studied. I had a photographic memory to the point where I could close my eyes during a test and see my notes as clear as if they were printed on the back of my eyelids. I still had this ability when I started college. But that’s when I met Mr. Coors and my downfall began.
Yes, I am living proof that alcohol does burn your brain cells. And no, they do not come back. I used to hear a phone number once and remember it for years. Now I have a work number, cell number and home number but I struggle to recall them when asked. The numbers of everyone I call are saved in my cell phone under contacts and if I were asked to give you any of their numbers without looking you would get little more than the chuckle provided by the blank look on my face.
It used to be only my short term memory that was affected. No more. This point is driven home to me every time my friends and I discuss romance novels which we do quite frequently. I have been reading romance novels for approximately 23 years. Most of them take up a great deal of room in my house. However, I cannot remember anything about them. Not the names of the characters, the premise of the story, the major conflict, not even the black moment that I’m sure is very memorable in all of them. Just not memorable enough for my three remaining brain cells to retain.
Now you know my affliction. Do you suffer with me? (Feel free to lie to make me feel better) Do you have a cure for CRS? I have my doubts I can ever be cured but you better believe I’m getting some Ginko ASAP. Now if I can only remember to take it…