|The unanswerable question
||[Feb. 21st, 2007|11:11 pm]
How many times does one have to find the same thing in the same place every single time one looks for it, before one realizes that is where the thing belongs, and that one should actually return it to that place instead of, say, laying it on the counter?|
So far, we're at 57,824 and counting. But hope springs eternal.
Because that would make life way too easy and that is just absolutely unnecessary.
Well, that's better than leaving things in the fridge, I suppose....
2007-02-23 01:39 am (UTC)
Oh, why do the expected? That's why I purposely leaving my glasses, my keys, my purse, my badge, my ATM card on the counter...or elsewhere Wondering if the sole access to my finances is sitting in the dryer, in the pocket of the work shorts I last wore or maybe in the hands of some stranger at the (pick one:) gas station, airport Starbucks, the last restaurant I went to makes a little excitement in my dreary, predictable little life.
That realization never makes it through the thickness of some skulls, I have to say. Unfortunately. Which is why I buy 150 pairs of scissors, 1,500 nail clippers, 600 emery boards, and about 1,000 pens every year. It's just the universe conspiring to make us all eternally crazy.
But I'm so glad I'm not alone in this madness!
I found the dog's Prednisone in the bread box this morning underneath the cheesy peanut-butter crackers.
I'm quite sure it was me who put it there, but why or how is probably a mystery I don't want to delve to far into.
The only reason I found them in the bread box is because I was furiously trying to find my 2006 W-2, so I can do my taxes.
Dear lord....I probably stuffed it in a hot dog and fed it to the dog.