“Is it Tuesday?” Maga asked.

“Monday,” I said.

“You’re a little earlier than usual.”

On one hand, yes, Monday is earlier than Tuesday. On the other hand, I’m early 90% of the time, so I was right on time per my internal clock.

“I guess I am,” I settled for.

“Any fun travels lately?”

“I was in NH yesterday.”

“Oh, yes. Didn’t you call me?”

“I did.”

“Who were you visiting?”

“I was with a group of friends and we were celebrating my friend Margo’s grandmother’s birthday. She’s German and we were at Oktoberfest. Do you know what that is?”

“I’m getting older by the minute. I guess we all are.”

Her comment wasn’t related to anything I’d just said, but it was (coincidentally?) in the ballpark of birthdays. “Well, yes. That’s true.”

“It’s getting harder to predict what’s going to happen in the next two minutes.”

It was such a randomly specific time frame I had to wonder if it wasn’t random. Maybe (now that she’s off her memory medication) that’s how often she feels her memory lasts until it resets? But then again, she actually remembered talking to me yesterday, so her memory’s still somewhat in tact.

She was in relatively good spirits, so I didn’t dare broach the subject of why I’d been calling so often. I just kept the chat light and loose and focused on things that didn’t take more than two minutes of memory.

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