Who, What, Where?

A year or two ago, I had some electricians come work on the house. I should say one worked while three others stood around chatting and watching. Funny thing, the worker was not the crew boss.

Last while back, my plumber recommended his electrician friend. Happily, it was the worker from the past that had branched out on his own. I hadn’t remembered his being here previously until he mentioned that he had left a tool here when he was with the other company.

As he worked, I tried my best to remember that tool! I knew I had found it sometime in the past. What I did with it is a whole nother story!

Sometimes, I think it would be interesting if all the things that I put somewhere to retrieve later could tell their tales of adventure. I’m sure the fancy pliers the electrician left here has resided in several places throughout my house. Probably the tool drawer in the laundry room. Maybe in the tool case in the garage. I know it was never used for anything around here after the electrician used it the last time.

What it was doing in my sewing area on the counter is beyond me! Right out in the open, in plain sight! With no other tool or unfinished project anywhere in sight! Well, not one that the tool would have been used on anyway.

When did I put it there?

Absolutely no idea.

J. is due back to work on a big project. I have placed the pliers atop the dishwasher. I am writing this out so I will actually remember where the tool is and to not move it to some bizarre place, for whatever crazy reason.

I can’t remember for sure, but I was probably this scatterbrained when I was younger. It’s just more frustrating now to not find what I’m looking for. My patience is getting thinner along with the shorter memory. It’s not Alzheimers or dementia. It’s my mind has other things to think about. Is there a disease called distractabilititis? I think that’s what I’ve got.

That’s the trouble with liking to write. My mind is always running a mile a minute on some story plot or blog subject. As I move from room to room, my mind is trying to figure out who the next murder victim will be or if that guy is really who the heroine needs. Will she fall off the cliff or leap off? Will it be a sword fight or a war of words? See my problem?

Then there’s always the grammar or punctuation dilemmas I am trying to resolve. Comma, dash, or crazy little dots -whatever they are called. Less or fewer? Its or It’s? And the spelling! Is sparkle even a word? How does one spell hysteria? Why isn’t it spelled like wisteria?

Will my next blog be a rant, a tale of woe, or the confession of a total goofball?

With all those mind boggling and earth shaking thoughts, how can I possibly remember where I place things?

As long as I remember the important things in life, everything will turn out all right in the end.

What is that you ask?