23. The Bathroom

I just came out from the bathroom and for some reason I thought about how another bathroom was – 30-ish years ago or so.

In an instant it was very clear to me, in my memory, how the bathroom was in my parents’ house, back in another city, in another time.

The sink, the mirror, the tiles on the floor, even the mug with our tooth brushes.

And I got the usual: ‘Jeez, time passes so fast’.

Also known as: ‘I can’t believe it’s been 30 years already’.

But there’s a diversion in that thought.

For what if I recounted every moment, every day, every year from now and back to then?

I would not be able to remember all, obviously … but let’s say about 5┬áper cent.

Yeah, that’ll do.

What if I wrote that down, very vividly, with as much description as I could muster?

That’s about 500 days I would remember, then. 1000 if you discount half of the day for sleep etc.

If I try to recount 5 per cent of the last 30 years and write down everything I remember, how long would I spend, on average, on recalling and describing the events of any one day?

How about … 1 hour. Just for arguments’ sake. But my gut feeling is that that is probably the most, on average, I could use.

Any lower is absurd, if I am really trying to describe everything in all detail that I remember from, say, the day I met Char or the day I was hospitalized for 6 months at the psychiatric ward or the day I first saw the Grand Canyon.

So, yeah, that would be at least a 1000 hours of writing time to remember about 5 per cent of 30 years.

Not a moment.

A thousand bloody hours.

Life is insanely long and big and fantastic.

But only if you take the time to think about it that needs to be taken.

Otherwise you might as well say: ‘I can’t believe I just skipped thinking about 30 years’.