Note: Bug Bytes are simple snippets, quick thoughts. Thanks for reading.
I have a problem around home decorating. Namely, I obsess about every little object in my house. In the evenings, while I’m trying to sit still, I hop up to move this little pewter thing or that pretty porcelain vase.
“Enough already,” my housemate Craig and boyfriend Jacques will tell me as I pop up continually.
Recently, after incorporating many of Jacques’ belongings into our home, along with my mother’s lovely collections of pewter and glass, I came to the realization that every room downstairs looked cluttered. Last Friday night, with no one around to hassle me, I began to declutter and redecorate in peace.
I spent an hour at it. Then, I couldn’t find my cell phone anywhere.
I retraced all my steps. I looked in the basement and my garage, where I’d moved some larger items. I looked in the trash, where I’d thrown the limp red roses Jacques had given me to celebrate the purchase of our new vacation home in New Hampshire the week before. I looked in cabinets and drawers and in the seat cushions on the couch where I’d been sitting.
I searched for another hour and finally gave up, heading to bed. When I stopped looking for my phone, I accidentally found it.
It fell out of my bra while I was undressing. Of course. That’s where I keep it when I need my hands free.