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September 7, 2007
Having a poor memory isn't so bad. Oh, it's not terribly helpful at work, and it's embarrassing when I can't introduce people I've known for ages, because their names escape me.

There is a pleasure, though, in finding things I'd forgotten about, little trinkets bought as future gifts and stashed away in a safe place, or books which looked interesting but which got buried under the stacks.

Money lent and forgotten becomes a windfall when returned, and while I never forget the enjoyment I get from a book, I forget enough of the detail to make it fresh on re-reading.