If found, return to any Haldeman

When I was young, like maybe 6 or 7, that’s what was written on the back of my nametag at science fiction conventions. “If found, return to any Haldeman”. Then I’d be off on my own, terrorizing the halls.

Lately I seem to be losing things. Forgetting things. Leaving things behind. In the last week, I have..

… lost one of my two pairs of jeans that fit, causing me to drive out to Old Navy to buy more (I was also on a hunt for PJs, of which they had practically none; but they were well-stocked in bathing suits!). Also lost my favorite purple flannel PJs.
… a folder that contains all of the patterns which I am currently knitting, including notes on complicated cable changes to a cardigan. Also contains some paperwork I need to turn in to my car insurance place (they just realized they don’t have the VIN for my car – wtf?!).
… I left the power cord to my laptop at work. Brought the laptop home, just forgot the power cord. Spent the whole night bitching to myself about what an idiot I was, and how if I wasn’t so tired and cold and if I really wanted to use my laptop I’d drive back and get it, and how the morning was going to be rushed if I only had so much battery power to my laptop and I wouldn’t be able to slowly sip my coffee and play FarmVille and I’m planning on knitting this complicated sweater (not the one I lost my notes for, a different one) and I wouldn’t be able to spend an hour or so researching yarns that get the right gauge bitch bitch bitch yadda yadda yadda bitch bitch bitch. Then I woke up in the morning and remembered that I have a desktop computer. Which I have had for Y E A R S. But somehow totally forgot about that night.
… I have a Christmas present from Jag and Antony that’s been sitting in front of the TV for almost two weeks now. I keep forgetting to open it. But at least I know where it is.

Clearly I have “the ‘tard” this week. Not to insult any actual ‘tards.

OK, this one first happened a couple months ago, but it’s still funny. Probably because it still keeps happening.
… I drive to work, maybe a 12-minute drive depending on traffic. I get to work, pull into my spot, turn off the car, pop the trunk to get my bags, grab my iPod, get out of the car, shut the door, ready my keys to open the trunk, walk the nanosecond around to the back of my car, and SEE THAT MY TRUNK IS ALREADY OPEN. Oh my god! Have I been driving across town with my trunk open?! What the fuck! I hope my yarn didn’t blow out! What if I’d hit a bump and something blew out of the trunk! Oh my god! I’m such a dumbass! Driving with my trunk open! How could I not have noticed that?! … … (wait for it…) … … Oh. Yeah. I just popped the trunk from the inside, before grabbing my iPod.

Sigh.
My brain.
If found, return to any Haldeman.

3 comments

  1. Y’know, I know I’ve known you since you were in, what, high school? But I read stories like this and wish I’d know you even earlier!

    πŸ™‚

    Mattski

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