Huzzah! An Exceptional Excuse.

I wrote here before about my quite shockingly bad memory for names. It's beyond ridiculous, bordering on rude. I've met heaps of people out at various functions and shows and hand on my heart I cannot remember the name of 98% of them. I mask this faux pas with the use of 'Darling'. 'Darling, how delightful to see you again, have you met Darling, Darling?' So skilled am I at Darling-ing my way about town I have almost but not quite managed to acquit myself in these horrific instances. Unless I am forced to introduce more than one Darling to a group of Darling, then I usually hit the rum and pretend I can't see people ( remarkably easy given my terrible eyesight).
But NOW! Huzzah Telegraph. An excuse has been gifted to me. A scientific excuse no less. It's not my fault I can't remember blasted names. I'm not rude, I'm not a feather head, they are not bland melting puddles of confusingly similar features. It is because I am clearly lacking in Oxytocin.
Oh science, isn't there anything you can't shift the blame onto? I heart you.