Memory soup...

I don’t quite understand how so many blog posts flood into my mind until it becomes time to write them down. I’ve had at least two today, one had something to do with car insurance I’m sure, but I’m blowed if I can remember what the other one was about at all. The insurance one is right there on the edge of my mind, but every time I go to claw it back it teeters on the edge and I lose it again.

It’s a shame because the insurance one was pretty good, although it may only have been car related and could just as easily be about car tax, the price of petrol, or even car rugs. I really don’t know any more.

I’m hoping that this fickle memory of mine is caused by the fact that my head is so bombarded with information and ideas that I couldn’t possibly keep them all in. The alternative to that is troublesome and something I’d rather forget.

I’ve taken to regularly playing memory games on my tablet in order to keep a track on myself. Somehow I feel that if I can match pairs across a random hundred boxes in less that three minutes there can’t be much wrong with my mind. Similarly if I can find twenty hidden objects, including the feather, in a dimly lit castle I must be compos mentis surely?

There is so much in the media about all this stuff that it’s hard not to become concerned. It’s not just the dementia thing either. It seems that everything has conspired together to make the world we live in a very dangerous place indeed. A place so dangerous that drinking a glass of wine could kill you, salt is a silent assassin waiting to finish you off, fatty foods are so dangerous that they need to be taxed, and you are taking your life into your own hands if you so much as look at a can of coke. At the same time a senior doctor on the radio yesterday informed me that low fat spreads are more harmful to me than butter. It’s all very confusing; no wonder I am becoming so muddled.

And maybe that is it. Life it seems, particularly these days, is a befuddling affair. There was a time when smoking eased your cough, Guinness was good for you, and you could yet your cocaine through popping a can of coke. These days everything seems bad for you. Tonight I am making miso soup which is said to stop you aging, help your memory, reduce blood pressure, help you to lose weight, and make you irresistible to women (I made that last one up by the way). Unfortunately there is a lot of evidence to support that the seaweed in miso is full of radioactivity, the fermented beans could lead to bowel problems, and of course it’s full of that silent assassin known as salt.

Oh well, I probably won’t remember eating it anyway.