I was beginning to forget everything. The only route I could remember clearly was how to get to the pub. It was the only place I ever went anymore. Tara and I would sit by the window-me downing my tenth or eleventh brew, and she would tell me of her problems. Stories about her life. Things she thought I didn't remember. Truth is, I remembered more when I was hammered than when I was sober. Sober life was shitty and miserable. Nothing that I thought was worth taking up space in my memory compartment. I slept until two in the afternoon everyday. The sunlight only made me grumpy lately.