Author: Curt Doolittle

I am a pretty nice guy most of the time.

I am certainly absurdly generous and patient.

I think I am mostly positive unless business or money is making me crazy.

I have had pretty much nothing but long term relationships.

But I can get my hackles up and push back pretty hard when criticized for things that are not what I consider ‘my fault’.

In particular I just cannot take this “why do you not think like I do” sh_t from women.And worse, aggressive criticism. Passive aggressive criticism. Makes me crazy.

And I don’t want to be one of those men who smacks women, even when they deserve it – which they do, or history wouldn’t be full of men smacking women around. But in this part of the world, women feel perfectly comfortable spewing their ignorant, selfish drivel at you with venom. Maybe that’s why they aren’t crazy like western women – the emotion ‘gets out’.

I am not ever, ever, ever going to remember anything that isn’t on a post-it in front of my face. I don’t remember my OWN stuff. Certainly not anyone else’s. Why? I don’t ‘live’ in the ‘world of the moment’. I live in a world of ideas, and when other people are around, I drop back to earth for a few moments, and am always surprised to find such interesting people here.

When I was a kid I had to wear my house key around my neck because otherwise I would never take it with me. I would always forget it. I learned how to break into houses by breaking into my own home, simply because I forgot the key all the time.

I had to write a schedule on the back of my notebook in order to remember what day and class it was.

I can’t remember a grocery list with more than two items. (Literally).

I have always had an assistant at work. Why? Otherwise I’d never get anywhere.

My business partner Chris used to tease me that my short term memory was erased by the first doorway I walked through. (Its true, although not as much as it used to be).

I don’t use credit cards, or take loans because I never remember them. I have about zero sense of time passing. I rarely even know what day it is.

I don’t ‘plan’ anything. I create a network of overlapping strategies, and I make task lists that move the needle in as many of those strategies at once. I follow my strategy – relentlessly, single mindedly – for years, if not decades. I work pretty much 14-18 hours a day. Every day. Seven days a week. And I pretty much always have.

I’m an ‘exaggerated male’. Men think in drawers. One drawer at a time. We are incognizant of other drawers. When we open one drawer we close the last drawer, and all is forgotten. etc.

I used to tell critics that picking on me about remembering things is like picking on a color blind person for not seeing the difference between red and green.

I mean, I used to, but I don’t walk around telling people ‘omg, wow, I can’t imagine you are that fucking stupid!!!” Which, I promise you, is how I react to about 97% of all human speech. Instead I forgive people for their incapacity and enjoy what they *DO* have to offer. (Strangely enough, ordinary folk say a lot less stupid stuff than people with university educations.)

Now by contrast, I can solve anything. Literally. I am pretty sure that no matter what problem I chose I would eventually solve it. I’m not fast at it, but I will absolutely figure it out. I remember everything I hear, much of what I read, and most of what I see. That’s my magic gift. I can crunch ideas like computers crunch numbers.

SO why do you think I feel ‘lost’ without a woman in my life? And why does a certain kind of woman enjoy being around an autistic version of Yoda? For some women, men like me are awesome toys. For me, women are a strategic necessity. You see? I think the way they think is magic. I can’t do that. It’s awesome.

But if a woman wants me to remember anything, no matter what it is, you might as well ask me to fly. Seriously.

So to all my past and future mates, it’s not that I don’t care. It’s that I CANT and it really f—-king pisses me off.