Physical memory is unbelievably powerful. Your hand knows where the snooze button is in the morning. You can navigate to the bathroom in pitch darkness. You know which switch controls the fan and which one controls the lights without looking at them.
Once these habits are set, they are pretty difficult to change. So, it was with a great deal of hubris that Sandy and I decided to move the silverware from the island in the middle of the kitchen to the drawer next to the sink.
It was a natural move. Next to the sink is where silverware should be after all. But, while these shifts make sense to my mind, my body thinks I’m crazy. Every day, I make at least one grab to the wrong drawer. My body and my mind are in constant conflict:
mind: we need a spoon.
body: [walks over to island.]
mind: i think we moved them.
body: [opens drawer. no spoons. freezes. looks around in confusion.]
mind: i told you we moved them. they’re by the sink.
body: [shoots mind a nasty look]
mind: don’t give me that look. at least i knew where the spoons were.
Don’t even get me started on the fact that I’m still pulling open my sock drawer and expecting to see t-shirts.