2010-11-10 / Loose Ends

Sometimes I find it hard to live with me

Susan Nienow

Yesterday I went through the papers on my desk looking for my vehicle mileage book and found four copies of an address I had asked my sister-in-law to send me. I actually asked her twice. I misplaced the first one and the second. Then every time I thought about it, I ran out another copy. I really need to mail that package so I can save on paper. I put it on the bar, hoping my other half will get tired of looking at it and mail it. I think it’s working – he asked what he should do with it next.

I know my mileage book is here somewhere. I hardly ever “lose” things. They just go missing for a time. It is probably with my list of things to do in May and the metal button that goes on my jean jacket. If I am lucky, it will also be with half of a page of “Forever Stamps” and the receipt for a pair of pants I need to return.

I can be organized, but it isn’t my natural state. Things that seem to come so easy for my other half just escape me. I keep a calendar and am faithful about writing things down. Most things. It is a good thing doctor’s offices and hairdressers call with reminders of appointments.

Last month I tried the library again. I checked out a few books on beading, being careful to note the due date, but I didn’t write it in my calendar. I read the books, stacked them on the end of my desk and forgot about them. I returned them the day I remembered – four days after the grace period. The county wouldn’t have any budget problems if I used the library all the time.

I am a committed coupon-collector. I cut them from newspapers and mailers and keep them until long past their expiration dates, then throw them away. My other half claims I’m storing my coupons on the floor of the car. I can’t seem to find time to file them in the plastic bag they call home. This all works until I go shopping with someone else and don’t drive.

I clip coupons for my other half, too. He does the grocery shopping, but he isn’t really a committed coupon user. Thirty-five cents isn’t enough incentive for him to go through the two-inch stack of promises of cents off.

Every day it’s chilly, I rummage through the four plastic bins full of winter clothes that’s on the floor in my bedroom, looking for something to wear. My other half insists I have a closet, but claims I can’t find it. It doesn’t bother me to keep my clothes in plastic bins, but it does take me longer to pick out something to wear, and some things are pretty wrinkled. I am hoping that by wearing everything once, then hanging it in the closet, the bins will be empty before New Year’s.

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