Further ridiculousness

First, the safe deposit box key was safely handed over unto Mark’s hands.  I don’t know where he put.  Not my problem, though.  He’s in charge of it, now.

Second, the document that I was to retrieve from the safe deposit box?  That wasn’t in the safe deposit box?

It was neatly filed in a file in the family filing cabinets.

You know.

In a nice safe place.

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One of each, please

When I started knitting, I had no intention of making sweaters.  None at all.

I was going to knit things that had to fit bodies.  Although, I will admit that I was willing to consider hats and scarves, but that’s different than trying to make things with sleeves and that had to fit curves.

Yeah.

So.

I’ll take one of each, please.

But.  Which color(s)?

From left to right:  a heathered purple, fuschia, lime green, a mixture of a hand-painted/variegated blue with a solid blue (the Serenity jacket is actually felted and is knit with 2 strands of yarn), a dark heathered green (mixed with a solid green, a bright red, or a heathered brown (that has a fair amount of red in it, mixed with the solid brown on the end). The Starlet jacket, with the ruffles is also felted.

Oy.

What’s girl to do?  

I know, I know.  I don’t have time to do any of them.  But I want to sooooo very badly.

But which one??

Oy.

Suzanne

p.s. So, I visited the bank to get the piece of paper out of the safe deposit box.  And get this:  the paper I’m looking for ISN’T ACTUALLY IN THE BOX.  *insert bad word of choice*

That means the paper I need is somewhere in the bottomless pit of paper piles that I call my office at home. Mark is just going to love that. *insert another bad word*

At least I know where the safe deposit box key is.

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A safe place

The last time I accessed the safe deposit box, I apparently put the safe deposit box key in a safe place.

I use the word “apparently” because, as you can probably guess, I can’t actually find that safe place.

You know the place, the “it’s-so-safe-even-I-can’t-find-it” place.

I’m hoping that isn’t of the “in-my-pants-pocket-forgot-to-empty-before-washing” variety.  Or the “fell-out-into-the-car-seat” kind of place.

In all likelihood the safe place I’m looking for is the “buried-under-a-pile-of-papers” sort.

The reason I need to get into the safe deposit box is not a critical one, but it is something I said I would do this week.  It greatly annoys me that I cannot find it.  Because, of course, this sort of situation leads to the little voices starting up, the ones that tell me I’m incompetent and that the thought that I’m allowed to be in charge of keeping track of anything, let alone a tiny key, is inconceivable.

I know I’m not incompetent, but at times like this it sure feels like it.

So, wish me luck.  I have about an hour left before I need to head downtown.  I’ll either find it by then or make a really big mess not finding it.

Suzanne

edited after about 45 minutes:  FOUND IT.  Phew.  It was in a storage thingy in the car.  No idea why I’d stuck it in there.  You can be sure that I’ll be putting it in a REALLY safe place when I get home tonight.

That REALLY safe place would be the hands of my husband.  That way, when I need the key again, I can ask HIM where it is, and because Mark is the way he is, he’ll know exactly where he put it.  And if he doesn’t, it’ll be his fault it is missing, not mine.

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