You know you have been away from your blog for too long when you have to go through the whole "forgot my password" routine twice in as many weeks. There was a time when I was logging into my Blogger account multiple times a day and knew my password as automatically as I know my name. Recently my blog has been neglected so much so that I forgot the password that I set for it originally in 2009 and have pecked out countless time since then. Alas, I reset to a new password and promptly forgot it within a week as well.
I never had to write my Blogger password down before thanks to my previous frequent, memory reinforcing use. But now it's written somewhere safe along with the login information for my other infrequently used accounts, like Craigslist (set up that one time I thought I would sell all sorts of house junk but decided I didn't like inviting strangers to my house to see the good stuff I was keeping) and that online flower shop (that I use every now and then but can never remember which one is the good online flower shop and which one stinks at sending online flowers.)
I thought these recent password memory disturbances could be explained away by my limited use of the unnatural, illogical combinations of alphanumeric characters, oddball symbols and grammatically incorrect use of capital letters required by programmers everywhere. Until I read Still Alice by Lisa Genova. And then I thought, maybe it's me.
Alice is a fifty year old Harvard psychology professor who starts to notice memory lapses and her dramatic increased consumption of sticky notes and lists. Then one day she finds herself lost and confused in a very familiar place. What comes next is Alice's surprising diagnosis of early-onset Alzheimer's disease. Alice narrates her downward spiral into the lonely place of Alzhiemer's where cherished memories are stolen and communication skills are lost. Because Alice's situation begins looking very similar to many multitasking, over scheduled, under rested, middle-aged women, this book will make you think twice about the need for your lists and your dependence on the organizational bells and whistles of your smart phone. Is it good use of technology or a crutch keeping a genetic memory thief at bay for just a bit longer?
Either way, I've got my blogger password and other such important information tucked away safely. Just hoping I can keep remembering where that some place is.