On Feeling Stupid

The reason why I haven't posted in a few days is because I've been occupied with something else. That something else was as pleasant as the sound of the Styrofoam rubbed on the mirror or the Chinese water torture. That something was looking for my lost cell phone that I misplaced at home. How could one loose a CELL PHONE? That thing cost me $150 and two years of bondage with the cell phone company. When I realized that it was missing, I spent countless hours digging in my brain, retracing my steps. I looked EVERYWHERE. I looked in the obvious places and not so obvious places. I even looked in the fridge, on the ceiling and in the garbage can. Yes, I was out there in the evening hours with my bright yellow rubber gloves on digging through it. If you will never read this blog again, I'll understand why. I am not sure what I would have done with it if I actually found it, but I needed to do it anyway to know whether I should seek help from a professional or not.

The more I looked, the more it was bugging me that I couldn't find it. At the risk of loosing my friendship with a very orderly friend of mine, I spilled out my anguish to her. I told her that I must have too big of a house or too small of a brain. She probably thinks its the latter. So today, five days later I come to peace with its absence.

My punishment is to go and beg the store clerk for a free phone no one else, not even a newbie tween wants and carry it around like this: