Memory: A Narrative Fiction

It all started with a something so simple as a sandwich. A small, hole-in-the-wall, stop-and-go-slash-sub-shop that served the best sandwiches I'd ever eaten. Of course, that wasn't its real purpose. The store was a quick-stop place, a mini-mart, if you will. You could pick up milk on the way home, or, if you fancied a soda and candy for the road, that could be bought, too.
I would always go for the sandwiches, though. When the camp that I volunteered at let out for lunch, releasing a long drawn breath as the children poured to the outdoor benches and had their food stolen by the local raccoons, I would walk down the street and around the corner to a place that you might not notice so easily, having to be 'in the know' about the area. Being so fortunate, I walked into the all-too-familiar place with a smile, and placed an order, slightly modified with every passing day. The lone cashier of the store would grin and ask, “Is that all?”
Yes, please. After chasing the rats half my age, whether it be to stop them from eating glue, or trying to stick their pudgy fingers in the coral snake tank, the cold, absolutely sloppy mess that constantly dripped mysterious liquids onto my filthy shorts was well worth the effort that was put into the rest of the day. Stings were taken out of mosquito bites, soreness out of muscles, and the previous hour's quarrels were instantly forgotten the moment that the explosion of salivation came with the crunching noises of the aluminum foil.
I hadn't been there in four years.
After my mother had quit her job at the camp, the little dingy, hole-in-the-wall, stop-and-go-slash-sub-shop faded out of my memory, and the tiny hole in which it had resided became a piece of solid brick to me, for all the impo...

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I find myself standing on constant edge, preparing for the future while also trying to be spontaneous, and all the while trying to enjoy myself. However, it is difficult to enjoy oneself if one spends too long looking ahead for future happiness; being spontaneous might bring temporary pleasure, but will also bring quick consequences, and I feel as though I'm taking the brunt of my decisions, gaining nothing while getting blind sighted by the side effects.
Sometimes you need to 'stop and smell the roses,' as the saying goes, and just enjoy life as it comes at you. And life does indeed come at you, with its ups and downs, but perhaps a particular low is needed in order to appreciate the normal. But high points make themselves known easily, announcing themselves with imprints on the mind, memories.
And what have you done with your life if you can't remember it?