|Like The Queen
Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
I lose stuff (and find it again) so often that the sense of joy is probably diluted for me. But I have been known to kiss (literally) a missing gradebook that turned back up, and just today I re-located a v. important book on soil ecology that I feared had been stolen. I also own two cell-phone chargers as a result of my "losing" habit.
Well, I AM a slob and my house is corner-to-corner clutter, (okay, an out-and-out pigsty), and believe it or not, I know where EVERYTHING is.
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Thursday, February 23, 2006 Yesterday was the best best best day. It was so good that nothing could go wrong enough to shift it to bad-day status. It was so extra special happiness-producing good because I found my wallet. Uh huh. After a 3 day weekend at home, where I didn’t need a wallet, full of life’s MostImportantThings - like the Visa card and the health insurance card and the ugly driver’s licensee and the checkbook - never any cash, but always a WW log - those important things - I arrived at work on Tuesday with a mostly empty purse and
And a meeting with a guest speaker and a shrug of my shoulders figuring I’d just left it at home. On a day when I didn’t really need any cash or Visa or insurance card, I decided to think about it at Tara only - when I got to Tara there was ...
I am not the greatest of house keepers, but neither am I a slob. My house is not gargantuan but it does contain some nooks and some crannies and perhaps a half dozen piles where a wallet might hide. But it didn’t. Not Tuesday. On Tuesday there was
I scoured the house. I took the flashlight out and crawled around in the car. BD took the flashlight out and crawled around the car. I even lifted the pile of waiting-to-be-ironed laundry that has been on the ironing board since before Christmas. But at that point I realized that, even if the wallet was in the house, I wasn’t going to find it. Not then, at any rate. When you start looking in stupid places it’s time to let the lost item find you. I always stop hunting when my gestures get frantic because I don’t believe in adding company to my misery.
I went to bed. I listened to a soothing meditation tape about self esteem. I dreamed I found my wallet and I went in to work early to give everything a final search before calling Visa and canceling the card, calling the bank and telling them to look out for checks coming in after Feb. __th, to calling the insurance company - and the DMV.
The penultimate looking task was going to be a scour around the library building but since it was raining I needed the umbrella, wisely left in the car on a rainy morning. And what do you suppose I saw tucked up on the window ledge of the rear window - but
And at last I grasped the fundamental joy in the story of the prodigal son - which I always hated. For I couldn’t have been that happy if ... if ... I don’t know when I have been that happy. I was so happy I had to tell the story all day, which made my assistant happy for as I waxed on about how nothing could upset me today she said “Good. Because I’ve lost the library’s Walmart charge card.”
And you know what? It didn’t make one bit of difference to my happiness and even L was left feeling happy, since it was so easy to replace, so everyone rejoiced at the homecoming of the Prodigal Wallet! posted by Bess | 7:41 AM