This level of forgetfulness is usually reserved for those dreary afternoons you take off college and those late night couch-a-thons where you realise its probably too late to go to sleep. Invariably I’ll find myself flicking through the channels looking for something semi-watchable, only to find Jerry Springer re-runs and some of the worst teleshopping ads money can buy.
Much like walking into a room and forgetting what you came for, it seems that as soon as the TV cuts to a break my brain instantly forgets what it was watching. Maybe it’s a sign that I should get up and stop wasting my life, who knows? What I do know, however, is that after ten more minutes of channel surfing it will dawn on me that I never found out if Tyreke really was the father, and my world will come crashing down.