“One day someone called the Institute and asked to speak to a particular dean. When his secretary said that the dean wasn’t available, the caller hesitantly asked for Einstein’s home address. That was not possible to give out, he was informed. The caller’s voice then dropped to a whisper. “Please don’t tell anybody,” he said, “but I am Dr. Einstein, I’m on my way home, and I’ve forgotten where my house is.”
Einstein’s memory was notoriously poor.
He was unable to remember dates and could not remember his own phone number.
As a student, one of his teachers claimed that he had a memory like a sieve.
When I read this, I felt better knowing I’m not alone in forgetting stuff.