I should be really finishing those Christmas cards (just a few more to go...) and driving them to the post office, wrapping gifts (...haven't started yet), shopping for a few last presents (without a list), putting away the laundry, straightening the house, or making myself some lunch right now. Instead, I must blog.
Mr. Tangerine is working from home today as he is coming down with a sniffly cold, his work is perfectly laptoppable, and it's his last work day before taking next week off. So after three or four hours of working from the couch, he begins to seek his BlackBerry. Where could it be? He thought he'd placed it in the pocked of his pajama pants. (What woman has ever had pockets in her pajama pants? Ripoff! We need pockets, too.) It's not there. It's not under his butt. It doesn't seem to be in the couch's crevices.
It took me a good 15 years to learn not to spring into action when Mr. Tangerine can't find his stuff. I didn't lose it, so why should I look for it? Much more relaxing not to involve myself. Should've quit years ago!
So I suggest that he call the phone and listen for its ring. That doesn't work. Why not? Where could it be?
Eventually, Mr. Tangerine stands up and looks around for his PDA. Oddly enough, the BlackBerry was resting on the living room bookshelf, alongside my collection of glass paperweights. Now, that's one shelf over from the CDs, but I was the one who grabbed the Nirvana CD this morning, not him. He doesn't know why or when he shelved the BlackBerry.
"Why didn't it ring?" he queried. He looks it over and discovers it has been set to "quiet." Now why would he have set it to quiet mode? He doesn't know that any more than he knows why he put it on a shelf where we don't just stash random things.
It is possible he is losing his mind, isn't it? What a shame it is to lose one's mind, or not to have a mind at all. How true that is.