I’ll edit in the title later . . . when I remember what the hell it was

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I’ve noticed this memory thing happening lately.  I’ve always had a weird memory.  Numbers seem to be the magical thing.  Numbers and lists.  Those things I can memorize in a nearly freakish way.  I remember the phone number for the house I lived in as a child.  It was in New York and we moved out of that house and down to North Carolina when I was 8.  Why I still remember that number, I have no idea but I can spout it off in the same sing-song way I did way back then. Read the rest . . .