Catchy

The news is, I threw back some scalding hot soup last night and now my tongue and tonsils are three crispy strips of bacon.  I'm probably not gonna make it.

Hey, Blooooog...how's my favorite left-justified, two dimensional hunka hunka burnin' love?  Cootchy-coo.

I am the absolute worst at holding on to things.  Be it my cell phone, my coffee cup, the car keys, as soon as I place these mf-ers down, it's like they get swept up into a vortex of you-will-never-find-me-again-hell.  My children are already adept at finding things for me as I leave the house, and I am pretty sure one of them is going to start secretly velcroing things to my person so they don''t have to suffer through watching me pat myself down for the millionth time and say where is my.....what have you.  Oh, and as soon as I find my what have you?  It is at that exact moment that all my thinga-ma-jigs vanish.

I have come to accept it, and as I try with all of my idiosyncrasies (hello, parking straight) embrace me for me.  But what I can not get over, and is altogether just too hysterical is the catch-all.

We all have a catch-all.  Whether you live in a house or an apartment or an adobe, there is a space where you most likely  put things: a shelf or ledge or dresser.  What I cannot get over is how I am so intensely conditioned to CONTINUALLY check the catch-all, like a Pavlov dog that is just not cutting the mustard. No milkbone for me? Mew.

I look at the shelf.  The keys are not here.  They are not there?  Are you sure they are not there?  They are always there. That's where I put them.  Shuffle mail.  Nope not there.  Okay, the keys are definitely not there.  Do not look at the shelf again because the keys are not there.  Eyeballs involuntarily shift towards catch-all. All muscles prepared to check there again. For the love of god put up some orange cones or some crime scene tape and STOP checking the shelf because the keys are not there. Jesus.

But there is always that one time.  The one instance when those gd keys actually ARE there and they were angled just so in a crevice.  It's enough to make you cash in your chips and join the green berets.