Hard Drive Nearly Full

My brain contains literally scads of useless information. Yes, literally. Yes, scads. And yes, useless. This would not normally be a problem, except for the fact that my brain seems to have reached its capacity, and now, in order to retain new information, I have to delete some old information to make room for it. Once I delete the old information, and insert the new information, the old information is wiped out, and the space that previously contained the old information is filled with the new. At least I think that's what is happening. I can never check to be sure because I cannot know after the fact what information was deleted.

This has been going on for about a month now, and there's a part of me that is beginning to obsess over the deleted information. That part of me says, "What if that information wasn't as useless as I thought when I deleted it?" The other part of me replies, "Hey, let it go. It's gone and there's nothing you can do about it." I suppose it wouldn't bother me so much if I knew for sure, after the fact, that the purged information was truly useless. But when I decide to reconsider whether or not it was really, actually useless, I realize that there's no way to actually reconsider it, because the information is purged. It's sort of disturbing. And it sort of goes like this:

Me: That's a nice song. I think I'd like to retain the lyrics.
Myself: Can't. There's no room for it, remember?
Me: That's right. Then how the Funk 'n' Wagnalls am I supposed to remember these lyrics so I can sing along at some later point in time?
Myself: Well, some stuff has to be deleted in order to make room in the brain for the lyrics.
Me: Oh. Right. So what useless information can I delete?
Myself: Hmm. Maybe that stuff about the central nervous system and neurotransmitters and how acetylcholine is excreted from the axon endplates of the motor neurons?
Me: No, I want to keep that. It sounds impressive.
Myself: Yes, that's right. Ok.
Me: What about some lame memories? There are some pretty useless memories in there, right?
Myself: No, keep those. They make good stories.
Me: Right again. Hmm. How about stuff I learnt in school that I don't need anymore?
Myself: Sure. There are all those geometry theorems, proofs and postulates learnt in the ninth grade. Remember the SAS Theorem (i.e., Side-Angle-Side Theorem, more preferably labeled the Angle-Side-Side Theorem by we ninth graders) and the SSS Theorem, etc.?
Me: Yes, that stuff sounds pretty useless.
Myself: Agreed. Shall I go ahead and purge?
Me: Sure.
Myself: Ok, here goes ...
Me: No wait!
Myself: What?
Me: What if someday I want to prove the congruency of a triangle. You know, just for the fun of it?
Myself:
Me: Seriously.
Myself. Oh stop. Please, you're being ridiculous.
Me: Ok, you're right. That is some pretty useless stuff. Go ahead. Start purging.
Myself: Purging now.
Me:
Myself:
Me: These are some lovely lyrics.
Myself: Yes, they are.
Me: I sure hope I don't need the information that was just purged.
Myself:
Me: Ya know?
Myself:
Me: Seriously. I may need that information someday. One never knows.
Myself: What information?
Me:
Myself: I said: what information?
Me: I don't know!
Myself: Exactly.
Me: I don't remember it! Oh my god.
Myself. That's the point, numbnuts. If it could be remembered, it would not be purged, now would it?
Me: You're right. I just hope I don't need it.
Myself: Need what?
Me: I don't know. I forget.
Myself:
Me:
Myself:
Me: Lovely lyrics, aren't they?
Myself: Yes. Splendid.