Things fall apart.
I went out to my car this morning to go vote, only to discover that someone had been through it and stolen my iPod, my charger cord, my stereo connection gear, and my cellphone charger. This is the second time in two months, though they didn't get the iPod last time; just replacing the cords cost me $50, though, and I had vowed to be better. Vowed. And I was being (or so I thought) so careful to lock my car, and take my valuables out - but I don't know if the door didn't shut right last night, or if I just forgot. I had just returned from my third? fourth? trip out of town in as many weeks and I was just knackered and glad to be home. I suppose it could have been worse - they didn't take my new sweater, or my change from the ashtray, or the scarf I just finished knitting, or the framed print I had in the trunk. Fairly courteous, I guess, for thieves.
But I cried. And left them a nasty note. I'm riding a thin veneer of normal these days, over what is looking more and more like a low-grade depression. I fell apart over a thing (though, yeah, gift from my husband, violation of my space, alla that) and went to the polls still sniffling. Fucked up my ballot and had to request another. Felt ill-informed. Was so shaken that I hope to god I marked for Kerry. If he doesn't win I am so going to lose it.
Got to the office, and set up a few more things - phone, finally! And workspace! But someone has taken the small page-holder thingummy I left here last week. Which sucks, as they are nice, and a bit pricey, and it was a treat for me from myself. Now I know, though; don't leave any of my equipment here. Which means toting it back and forth. Pain. In. My. Ass.
Last in the missing items roundup is my knitting books. I went to go get a sock pattern and they were just ... not there. I remember a full bookshelf, a few weeks back, and now it is only half-full. Did I lend them to someone? I certainly don't remember. I toyed briefly with the idea of thieves, again, but there are many nice things in my house, and surely no-one would have walked off with just the knitting books. Did I take them out for a reason and put them elsewhere? Again, I have no recollection of doing so. ETA: This mystery, at least, is solved; I did lend them to someone, and can get them back tonight.
Being a scatterbrain has cost me thousands of dollars in counseling fees, an iPod, several sets of cords, various other small expenses, and now my knitting books, just in the past month or so. It doesn't seem fair, somehow, even if it was all probably my own fault in the end. Why do I have to be like this? I try so hard, but for every two things I hold together, it feels like three fall apart.
But I cried. And left them a nasty note. I'm riding a thin veneer of normal these days, over what is looking more and more like a low-grade depression. I fell apart over a thing (though, yeah, gift from my husband, violation of my space, alla that) and went to the polls still sniffling. Fucked up my ballot and had to request another. Felt ill-informed. Was so shaken that I hope to god I marked for Kerry. If he doesn't win I am so going to lose it.
Got to the office, and set up a few more things - phone, finally! And workspace! But someone has taken the small page-holder thingummy I left here last week. Which sucks, as they are nice, and a bit pricey, and it was a treat for me from myself. Now I know, though; don't leave any of my equipment here. Which means toting it back and forth. Pain. In. My. Ass.
Last in the missing items roundup is my knitting books. I went to go get a sock pattern and they were just ... not there. I remember a full bookshelf, a few weeks back, and now it is only half-full. Did I lend them to someone? I certainly don't remember. I toyed briefly with the idea of thieves, again, but there are many nice things in my house, and surely no-one would have walked off with just the knitting books. Did I take them out for a reason and put them elsewhere? Again, I have no recollection of doing so. ETA: This mystery, at least, is solved; I did lend them to someone, and can get them back tonight.
Being a scatterbrain has cost me thousands of dollars in counseling fees, an iPod, several sets of cords, various other small expenses, and now my knitting books, just in the past month or so. It doesn't seem fair, somehow, even if it was all probably my own fault in the end. Why do I have to be like this? I try so hard, but for every two things I hold together, it feels like three fall apart.
posted by The Stute Fish at 17:23
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