Wasted brain space

Matt and I were talking about whether we thought we'd do well on the SAT if we took it now. We decided it would probably seem pretty easy as long as we were able to review some of the math formulas we haven't used in years.

Then I had this little glimmer of a memory. I asked Matt if he remembered this formula that was beat into our heads in high school math -- pre-calculus, I thought. All I could remember was that it involved a square root and "all divided by" something. He got this look on his face and said that did sound strangely familiar ... was there a b squared in there somewhere?

We were talking about the quadratic formula, although at this point we couldn't remember what it was called or what it was used for. But we both could kind of recall its cadence. We kept going, "Something plus or minus the square root of ... one-half b squared minus 4ac? All divided by ... 2b?" It was scary how, over the course of five minutes, so much of it came back to us.

After writing out as much of it as we could remember, we looked it up online, and now it's out of our system.

All that to say, I cannot believe that so much of the quadratic formula has been lurking in some cobwebby corner of our brains all this time. That formula probably hasn't crossed my mind once since 11th grade, yet there it was, largely intact, once we started digging for it.

But why?

I can't remember Lauren's phone number. Or Amanda's ZIP code. Or how much we paid for our lot less than a year ago. Or what days of the week the Coalition thrift store is open.

I always forget whether Maegan's birthday is Jan. 30 or 31. I don't remember my freshman roommate's last name. I am dependent upon the recipe for Mom's famous lasagna even though I've made it dozens and dozens of times.

Is it just me?