Fucking Gods!

I am aware that I am a little less than perfect. I am the perfect “me”, but I have pretty low standards and everyone else in the world seems to have higher standards than I do. Such is life.

That being said, I feel that I should point out a character flaw and blessing. Once I start to look for something, I won’t stop the search until I find it or lose my mind entirely. If I have absolutely no idea where it could be, I will do a cursory search and that will be that. However, if I remember the lost item or Louise remembers a lost item then I will search until bed time and then start the search first thing in the morning. Of course there is a point when I have searched the whole house two or three times and not found what was lost. That is a sad day and from time to time I will resume the search. I’m still looking for a book I misplaced during the seventies.

I don’t remember the name of the book, the size or what it was about, but I think it was reddish or perhaps orange. Louise will do that to me every now and the. “Did you see the large brown envelope from XYZ Corp?"

The next two hours I will search all of the likely hiding places and most of the unlikely ones. I have gone out to the garage in -40° C and searched both vehicles on the off chance it may have found it’s way out there somehow. Eventually, I will stumble on a small, blue envelope with the XYZ Corp logo and ask Louise if this is the company I am searching? Bear in mind that Louise gave up the search one hour and fifty-five minutes ago and has since forgotten the envelope or even what she wanted it for. There is a momentary look of bewilderment in her eyes and then she will say, “Great, that’s the one I’m looking for. Thanks!”

I stare at her wondering how a large brown envelope became a small blue one. I guess that is one of those life mysteries people talk about. I suppose that the good news is that during the search I have located more than a few items that I will need in the near future. If only I can locate them when needed.

Today I was looking for a vintage tool that spins water out of a paint brush or roller. It had been sitting beside the laundry tub in the basement for the past three or four months for those occasions when I need to spin water out of a brush. I went to get it and it just wasn’t there! What? Who the hell moved it? I know I didn’t it must have been Tornado; he puts things where he determines they should be. The location usually only makes sense to him. I tried to think like a five year old and although I am pretty immature, it just isn’t the same thing.

Here we go again. I searched the laundry room, the basement workroom, Louise’s sewing room, the kid’s hide-a-way under the stairs and repeated the search four times. I went upstairs and searched my room, the spare room where the grandkids sleep, the computer room, front closet, rear entry and I looked under the couch. I went out to the garage and searched the work bench, the wall of shelves, the place under the workbench where I keep paint supplies and spiders and then did it all over again. I went back in the house and searched the basement again. Finally, in desperation I looked at Louise and said, “I know this is a stupid question, but do id you do anything with the paint brush spinner?”

“What???”

“No, forget it.” I must have sounded terribly dejected because when I came back in the house Louise was in the basement looking for that damned spinner. I stepped into the laundry room and there, hanging just above the laundry tub was the brush spinner.

I would like to think that things like this happen because the Gods are testing me to see how I handle stress. That’s what I would like to think, but it’s more likely that the Gods are just having a laugh at my expense.

Fucking Gods!