When I look back on this week, I am thoroughly shocked that I have managed to be here, on my couch, with my dog beside me and a casserole in the oven. Surely, at any moment, I’m going to realize something disastrous I have done, or forgotten to do. I just know it.
Because, y’all, it’s not been pretty in my sphere this week.
I used to be a stage manager, and a producer. These jobs, by default, require high levels of organization and the ability to hold many ideas/tasks/to-dos in one’s head at any given moment. That I used to be good at these jobs only makes what’s gone on this week the more terrifying.
My mom has always said that I “leave a trail.” Usually this meant scrunchies or socks or dirty dishes; I am one of those people who cleans in large chunks rather than as I go. And yes, I know, the latter is the more virtuous of the two, but after 38 years, I can’t see myself changing. I spend more time than I’d like to admit completely freaking out that I’ve left my keys or my phone in the office/bus/taxi/grocery store. So far I haven’t forgotten my dog somewhere, but I’m sure that’s just a matter of time.
Still, this week has taken the cake. It started fairly innocuously, with me leaving the wrong mailbox key for my dog-sitter, followed by realizing I was without a stash of Advil during a time of the month when that is as essential as water.
It quickly progressed to me managing to lose my drivers license at EPCOT Center, my Coach sunglasses at a restaurant in Miami Beach, and my coworkers room key at the pool of her hotel. I even left my entire bag in a classroom at a school we visited. And then, last night, as I trudged home from the airport at 11:30 pm, I glanced over to where my car usually hangs out. I’m sure you know where this is going.
“Hmmm…” I said to myself. “My car isn’t where I left it. And gee, the street looks awfully clean.”
Yes, friends, I managed to get my car TOWED on the first month of street cleaning. I’m assured by all my new Bostonian pals that this is a rite of passage, but still.
I guess the good news is that the stellar staff at EPCOT found my drivers license and I was able to get it back. My sunglasses were tucked safely in the manager’s station when I went back to the restaurant. I realized I’d left the room key about 30 seconds after I left it, and I remembered to go back for my bag before we left the high school.
And I got my car back, though my bank account is a little lighter today than I’d wanted it to be.
What to take from all of this nonsense? I’m not sure. I guess I should be grateful that none of these mishaps were really disastrous, and that in several cases, humans did the right thing by not stealing my lost stuff.
But geez. I’m not sure I can take another week like this. I think it might be best if I hunker down with the dog and some baseball for a little while. Luckily, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
Now where did I put the remote?
Everything and a Racehorse 