Throw Me A Line

It happened again. I wondered around aimlessly looking for something I knew I had but couldn’t find. It was somewhere and I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to find it, but I kept looking for 10, 20 minutes of my life. Wasted.

It’s been almost 3 years since I’d danced this dance. Me and my stuff, in my house. The last item that set me on the journey to declutter for life was weed-eater string. Weed eater string for my husband, because I knew we’d bought it at least the last three times he’d needed it.

Tonight it was fishing line. Why is it always some sort of string with me? And why do I even need fishing line at 7pm on a weekday night as I hobble around the house on the back of one foot because I’m pretty sure my bandaid covered big toe may be soaked in dog pee. Its been a long 20 minutes.

I need a shower, but I refused to give up the quest. 20 minutes leads into 30. Wasted.

My husband walks through the living room. I ask him if he’s seen THE fishing line. He answers, “Um, no.” as if he even knew we had fishing line at all, much less THE fishing line. What a hopeless feeling it is to search for something you know is missing only because you don’t know where you put it. It’s a bit of insanity. Like you’re probably a little crazy and if not, it’s going to get you there.

I exaggerate. I think. Taking a shower seems like admission of defeat so I’m just going to write this and prop up my toe to dry. I needed the string to hang paper lanterns in my daughter’s room and I recall using THE fishing line when I hung up glass ornaments in the window. Moving has turned me upside down. In told myself to keep THE fishing line close to the window since I need it there every year. My mother and I take an annual day trip to make glass ornaments that I hang in the window. However, THE fishing line always stayed in the tool chest at the old house. Always. For 12 years before we moved.

I had a system. I have a system. Part of the system was that THE fishing line stays in the tool chest, but moving to a new home has us reevaluating where things should go. We still have the tool chest. I don’t know why I moved THE fishing line. I thought it would be more efficient. Jokes on me. We won’t be able to finish her room tonight and I’ll have to go buy more fishing line. How frustrating! Of course I checked the tool box and the dog followed me in the garage and might have marked his spot (if you’re wondering about the toe).

I guess I’ll go take a shower.

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