What a stupid forgetfulness

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Strangely enough I forget what to do but not many things I did

Mine with the inattention comes from afar. From the last century, wow. “Write down the tasks,” the nuns told us. And I did, but I forgot to look at it. Fortunately, the mobile came to my rescue, but the price I have to pay for technological assistance is to live in a constant shock, from alarm to alarm: what if the hairdresser, what if the column, what if the meeting, what if buy coffee. I go through the days with a high heel and warning.

Interestingly, I forget what to do, but not many things I did. The ridiculous thing, especially: the one I got when I fell into a sewer, the one I endured when I proposed to a man who didn’t like me. Okay, I’ve done that several times: I had such a crop of pumpkins that I spent my teenage years preparing angel hair. Those bits of memory still come to me, right between the eyes, when I tweeze my eyebrows. At this rate, I’m leaving them like two flying legs.

But my mobile contains not only my memory, but also that of the people around me, plural memory, family data. And be careful not to remind them of a cousin’s birthday or cousin’s graduation, they won’t forgive you. They’ll do it when you’re old, when they look at you with pity because you’re sick in the head. There you can forget everything. Even taking the pill for what? The local police of Tarifa published a tweet saying that in the lost property office they had a phone that had set off an alarm at 10 a.m.: “The fucking pill that you have left being pregnant” (sic). The girl had lost the cell phone, the commas, and the accents. I hope he didn’t get confused with the pill either. If it’s a girl, have her put Olvido.

Source: La Verdad

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