It's been a while since I started noticing something… off. It's hard to explain, but it feels like pieces of my memory are slipping away. Not big things, not yet at least, but small fragments—like a word I was about to say, or a task I was sure I had to do, or even a face I thought I recognized. It's as if someone's taken an eraser and lightly smudged parts of my mind. I don't know how else to describe it.
At first, I thought it was just stress. Work has been overwhelming lately, and life hasn't exactly been kind. But the feeling persisted, gnawing at me. So, I decided to see a doctor. I went to one, then another, and another. None of them could find anything wrong. They ran tests, asked questions, and poked around, but everything came back normal. "It's probably stress," they said. "Try to relax. Get more sleep. Maybe keep a journal to organize your thoughts."
A journal. That's why I'm here, writing. Maybe putting my thoughts down will help me make sense of this… this fog in my head. Or maybe it'll just be a record of the stuffs I might forget. Either way, here I am.
Today was… ordinary, I guess. I woke up at 7:00 AM, like I mostly do. The alarm buzzed, and I slapped it off, lying there for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling. Then I woke up and I made breakfast—scrambled eggs and toast. I think I burned the toast a little, but I ate it anyway. Then I got ready for work.
The office was the same as always. Emails, meetings, and the occasional small talk with colleagues. Nothing out of the ordinary. I came home around 6:30 PM, tired but not exhausted. I rested for a bit, scrolling through my phone, though I can't remember what I was looking at. Then I cooked dinner—pasta with some jarred sauce. It wasn't great, but it filled me up.
And now, here I am, writing this. It feels strange, putting my day into words like this. I don't know if it'll help, but I'll keep doing it. Maybe tomorrow will be clearer. Maybe I'll remember something I forgot today.
I think I'll sleep now. Tomorrow's another day.