In our downstairs bathroom we have a laundry chute. At least it used to be a laundry chute. Now I think it is a wormhole, a door through which our belongings are traveling to another dimension.
You might think that would be a cool thing to have in your house, but I disagree. I REALLY REALLY disagree. I want my stuff back.
I go through phases in my life where I lose things. Does anybody remember when I lost that check? That was January too. Maybe it's a January thing. Maybe I shouldn't pay so much attention to my New Year's resolutions because clearly they distract me from important tasks like not letting stuff get sucked into eddies in the space-time continuum. (The resolutions are not the problem. I am not doing so well with the resolutions today. In fact, I am Faily F. McFailerson on the sugar front. Sigh.)
I am missing a bunch of stuff right now. A pair of hand-knit socks. The copy of my prospectus document in which one of my committee members wrote all of her comments about things I need to change before the defense. A baby shoe. It was two baby shoes, one each from two pairs, but I found one. Praise the Lord and pass the sanity.
Here's where the wormhole idea comes in: I am also missing a pair of little red leggings that go under one of Stella's cutest dresses. The dress went down the laundry chute, but the leggings? Dimension X, man. They are nowhere to be found. This morning I pulled out a pair of jeans for Pete that hadn't quite dried. He refused to wear them and tossed them down the laundry chute. No, wait -- he tossed them into the laundry chute, whence they vanished.
I took a broom handle and poked around in there to make sure it wasn't clogged. Pretty brave, huh? I could have been sucked into Dimension X, but I faced down the vortex and lived to tell the tale.
I remember writing a blog post about losing things and do you know what? I can't find that either, not even with the mighty arm of Google. (I suppose it's actually the mighty grep of Google.) Where could it be? It was about buying new DPNs and having them disappear, never to be seen again.
This is getting kind of meta -- I've lost my record of my lost things. Anyway, I blame the laundry chute.
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