I took a flight VERY late in my shift yesterday, the last day of six days in a row. (Murphy's law prevails... GOD has a very strange sense of humor!) I had earlier traded our fleet's number two aircraft for our number four aircraft and there were discrepancies in the aircraft total time that needed to be worked out. The late flight precluded me from correcting the log. So late last night, exhausted upon my return and badly needing to get home to rest, I dumped the whole problem in the oncoming pilot's lap and walked out the door.
This morning I wanted to call my lead pilot to see if there was anything I needed to do to help tie up loose ends. His cell number is one of those I call regularly so it's stored on my cell, but my cell phone was downstairs and I'm upstairs, too lazy to fetch it. I picked up the bedroom cordless phone and started to dial his number from memory, but then stalled...
Is his prefix 524, 534 or 539? I couldn't remember.
So I put the phone down, picked up the laptop, and started reading my email. In the middle of reading a note from GH in Hawaii the correct prefix sprang to mind like someone held up a placard in front of me... 534!
I think this happens to all of us to one degree or another, but I'm still amazed by it. I seemingly quit worrying about remembering the number, but while I was reading my email another part of my brain was still searching through old files somewhere and found the information.
The human brain...
Still the ultimate computer!