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marcicatThat feeling when you *know* a book exists, and is somewhere within the square footage of your living space. You remember various places it has been in the past, yet it is clearly no longer there. WHERE IS IT?
(Technically speaking, it's not a book. I know where that is. It's the set of maps that came with the book that I've lost track of. I'm sure there's some funny joke that could be made about that. The problem is that maps are so flat. They can be tucked between other books and become invisible.)
This has been my actual week so far. I spend a certain amount of time each day just wandering around the apartment muttering things like 'where could I possibly have put them?' Unfortunately reducing my chances of finding them, I did a lot of cleaning and reorganizing last year, and I've learned that things that made perfect sense while I was in 'organizing mode' are completely incomprehensible the rest of the time.
(Technically speaking, it's not a book. I know where that is. It's the set of maps that came with the book that I've lost track of. I'm sure there's some funny joke that could be made about that. The problem is that maps are so flat. They can be tucked between other books and become invisible.)
This has been my actual week so far. I spend a certain amount of time each day just wandering around the apartment muttering things like 'where could I possibly have put them?' Unfortunately reducing my chances of finding them, I did a lot of cleaning and reorganizing last year, and I've learned that things that made perfect sense while I was in 'organizing mode' are completely incomprehensible the rest of the time.
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Date: 2019-09-18 03:03 pm (UTC)So horribly true.