Remember the good old days when you could rattle off the phone numbers of all your best friends, your childhood home, and maybe even your favorite pizza place? Yeah, me neither. And before you assume I’m just getting up there in years, let me assure you, this is a millennial problem too.
The Day My Brain Outsourced Phone Numbers
It all hit me a few weeks ago. I was at the counter in a bustling bakery, the aroma of fresh bread battling with the cacophony of coffee orders. My phone, nestled snugly in my pocket, began to vibrate with the urgency of a text message from my husband. “Can you grab a baguette?” it read. Simple enough, right?
But then it struck me. I needed to call him back to confirm. But his number, the one I’d dialed, texted, and memorized years ago, had vanished into the ether of my brain. Poof! Gone. I stood there, phone in hand, feeling like a contestant on a game show who’d just blanked on the easiest question.
