I think I must live in a black hole. It’s as simple and as convoluted as that.
I lose something every day; many days I lose many things. I don’t consider myself to be absent-minded, and I’m not really very forgetful (though I do have my moments). But the fact of the matter is I’ve become a fairly good hunter of things that have gone missing.
• It’s a known fact by those close to me that I lose my keys at least once a day. That pretty little keyring holds all the keys to my world — my home, my vehicles, the office, my mom’s house ... Anything that requires a key to get in is on that keychain. I probably have duplicates somewhere, but quite frankly, I have no idea where I’ve put them.
• Scissors ... I know I have four or five pairs of scissors at home, but for the life of me, I can never find one pair when I need them.
• My cell phone ... If it was as “smart” as it claims to be, it would find me, but I usually misplace it a couple of times a day, and I have to have another person call my number so I can find it.
• The remote control ... Who knows how or why the remote ends up in the places I find it, but I’ve quit trying to figure it out. All I know is that it’s gone, and since I have no idea how to change the channel without it, it has to be located before my leisurely evening can continue.
• My car ... OK, this is a big one, especially if I’m missing my keys at the same time, since I can’t push that little “panic” button to help me find the car in the middle of a packed parking lot.
• My grocery list ... I spent a good long time making that list, so I won’t buy unnecessary items and I can get in and out of the grocery as fast as possible. After a 10-minute search through my other black hole (otherwise known as my purse), I resign myself to using my memory — which is really stupid because if I can’t remember where the list is, I’m clearly not going to remember what was on it.
• My coffee cup ... Being the coffee drinker I am, I usually have a cup of coffee with me at the office most of the time — at least in the mornings. Who knows where I left it? Fortunately, the BCR staff recognizes my cup, and someone usually brings it back to me.
• Phone numbers ... You would think I would learn, but I have this habit of writing down a telephone number of someone I need to call or someone whose call needs to be returned, but I forget to write down the name next to the number. So I end up with all these little scraps of paper with telephone numbers of people, but I have no idea who they belong to. Worse ... I misplace the little scrap of paper.
• My purse ... This one is another big one, right behind misplacing my car. More than once I’ve left it in the shopping cart at the grocery or another parking lot. Thank God for honest people. Of course my purse has everything in it I need to maneuver through my day, so you can imagine the dilemma and the panic.
• My reporter’s notebook ... This one might not sound like a big deal, but when you’ve just done four or five interviews, it’s critical. No, I don’t use a tape recorder. I’ve written everything down, and now, the idea of having to call all those people I interviewed (if I can find their phone numbers which is doubtful) and tell them I can’t find my reporter’s notebook is horrifying.
• My camera ... Ditto with the reporter’s notebook, except this time I have to tell someone I lost a camera that belongs to the company. Ugh!
I could go on and on ... but you get the idea. I have no idea where all these items go, and furthermore, I am equally surprised when they mysteriously show up. Welcome to my world or what I like to call ... my black hole.
BCR Editor Terri Simon can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.