today, over breakfast with a new acquaintance, i forgot how old i am. not the forgivable lapse that usually takes place a month or two after one's birthday but a serious confusion that had me adding and subtracting* my birth year (thank god i still remember that) and the current year (that bastard keeps changing, but so far i'm keeping up). i blame the fact that last year i was 42, a number deeply imbued with meaning. 43, on the other hand, well, that's just the number that comes after 42. 43 isn't bad as far as my synesthesia goes but it comes across as a bit anticlimactic. still, i ought to know my own age, non?
* god knows, nothing good has ever come of that.