I usually have a very good memory. I remember things like what I was wearing five years ago on a Friday or what Ross said to Rachel in Season 2, Episode 8. My memory fails me when it comes to getting petrol or taking a test, but at most other times, even through alcohol hazes, I remember quite a lot.
So last night when I was talking with a friend about an evening that occurred just a few weeks ago and I could barely remember it, it freaked me out. It didn't help that the evening was spent at Fridays, a location I frequent quite often because of its close proximity to my job. I kept blurring together three separate nights and while I could clearly see the end of the evening, I was having trouble seeing us sitting in the restaurant in my memory. And it's not like I was drunk that night. I later remembered that was the night I wussed out and just got a short Blue Moon as my second instead of another tall.
There really isn't much to this story except that for about an hour I felt like I had lost a night of my life and, from what I was being told, it was a good evening. All of a sudden though the memory rushed back and I could see it clear as day. It had been a good evening.