Some months ago I was on the phone to mom. During the course of the half hour conversation, I was pacing the house, lifting, peeking and poking into everything, looking for my phone. Finally, exasperated, I said to mom, "GOD this is frustrating! I've just spent 30 minutes looking for my phone. I can't find it anywhere!"
"Which phone, honey?"
"The one you're talking to me on?"
Last night it happened again. matel came by and we were going to walk to One Eyed Jacks to meet changingthesky.
"I'll just be a sec," I said as I went to the bedroom, pulled my wallet out of one coat, went to the closet to get another coat, and in that time lost my wallet.
BlondeLiz helped me scour the room. We took the entire bed apart … twice. Searched through the same pockets dozens of times. Snorfled through dirty laundry (always the sign of a good friend if she'll do that!).
At last, feeling like a Grade-A 'Tard, I gave up. I stole some money out of Ben's safe and we went to the club.
When I came home to sleep, I had a dream I found my wallet in my houndstooth coat, which was currently residing in the front of the house, miles from where I had put the wallet when I extracted it from the other coat the night before.
I woke up and checked the houndstooth coat. It was there. So what did I take out of the other coat?! My phone? Cigarettes? My senses, sanity and intelligence?
Now what was I saying?