2000
| November 28, 2000 I can manage to loose anything. I really can. Pepper sent me a phone card. I took it to the hospital - still in its envelope. I put it on the shelf. I did not open it. Because I did not manage to have the phone number with me. And I didn't remember the phone number because I was staggering in 36 hours on - 12 hours off shifts at the hospital. So I finally, once he was awake and sending me home to sleep, managed to bring in the phone number. Took two days to do this. The idea being to get both in one place at one time. Now, along the way (it's been more than a few days) I did open the envelope and take a look at the phone card. And I decided that the shelf wasn't a good place to put it since anyone could access it - so I put the card in a safe place. Right. So now I have the phone number, and I can't remember the location of the card. Which suitcase? The one I emptied for my older son who is taking a trip next week? I will now have both medium sized suitcases on the road! Or the satchel I use for drugs (mine) and food. Or the roll-on I use for office papers and clothes. Spare shoes. A sports bra if I dain to wear one. Or was it even a suitcase? Did it get mixed into the file-the-mail pile? (Which means it is in the tax drawer. An unmentionable horror. I only clean it up once a year.) Or my purse? No, I cleaned that. I'm sure. Because I took a trip - and I washed the bag (which really needed it!). Not in the wallet - I have a big thick one. Not the checkbook - where I have stuffed things that need attention. And then ignore them. Nope. Not at home near my G4. Where I am unbelievably (if you saw the mess you'd die!) organized. Sort of. Where I have 200 pages hand-written for Hellsfire, the sequel to Jettison. Not on my dresser. Which I neatened up with all kinds of jewelry storage drawers. And have to keep things away from the front so I can open the drawers. Not in any of three suitcases. All pockets searched. All hidden spaces. Not in the special carrier I have for important things. Like stamps. Not in the kitchen. I file behind the blender. Not in my curler box (I have a big flat one). Not on the dining room cum cutting board cum mail sorter table. So I came back in to the hospital today and looked on the shelf. Nope. It is still not there. I opened up the zippered compartment in my purse - a last desperate act - the one reserved for my gym gloves and my gym lock and key, and presto. There is a folded piece of paper. Labeled "phone card". Yep. A safe place given I skipped the gym Sunday. (End of month downtime.) Now to remember this information at a more reasonable hour of the night. |
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