I remember one evening, back in October 2011, when I went shopping with a friend of mine at the big Sainsbury’s in Bath. I bought two things: a particularly large jacket potato and an angel delight. It was quite cold for early winter and we had quite a walk back to the bus stop, where we got the bus back to my friend’s home. My friend had significantly more shopping than me.
We eventually got back and popped the two jacket potatoes into the microwave. We did them for 15 minutes, I believe, which I thought was quite a long time. Afterwards, we sprinkled some grated cheese on top and started to try and eat them. Alas, they were still very hard and not really edible. I forced myself to finish mine, but my friend threw hers out. The Inbetweeners was on the television and it was the first time I’d ever seen it.
I know that that’s quite a boring story, but I wanted to use it to illustrate a point about memory. I remember that evening because I felt happy. I remember hundreds of other evenings like that with lots of other people. I can always remember the year and month that something happened, based on the context.
Often people say that I have a good memory, but I think it only applies to memories which are connected to emotions. Memories like these are things that can make me feel happy if I look back on them – so I do do that, for that very reason. I may not remember lots of the little things, but I remember the main events and the interactions with others that were involved. These framented memories drift through my head every day and are some of the most valuable things I have as they enhance things throughout each day. For example, I’ll always gain just a little extra enjoyment of The Inbetweeners because of its connection to this memory.
