Conversations With the Saint of Lost Items

One more thing broke- the puff thingy for the shower gel unraveled into a mess. That makes four broken items. Now things are getting lost. First it was the Christmas ornament. I forgot to mention it in my last post. I decided to see if anything I already owned could be repurposed and I dropped one small purple ball into the grass and haven't found it yet.

The next thing I lost was the website address to pay for renewing my magazine subscription. I KNEW I saw it somewhere, yet despite flipping all the mail in every direction, I didn't find it until after I wrote out a check. Then it appeared in bold print on the back of my bill.

And then I lost my cell phone. I know I put it in my bag before leaving home, yet when I arrived in town I didn't have it. Wasn't in the truck, so I concluded it must be laying in my yard. I debated for a long time about going home. That would be a waste of gas and could possibly make me late for work. And what if I couldn't find it? What if my cell disappeared into the high grass like the ornament, never to be seen again?

Finally, it was bugging me too much. I was really terrified I'd forget about losing it until after I parked the truck and then of course, I'd discover I had run over my cell. Best to go home. I prayed to Saint Anthony- Tony, Tony, come around. Something's lost that can't be found. As soon as I drove up, I spied my phone laying in the driveway. So I found something I had lost (Thanks, Tony!) but it didn't work.

The phone was off. And it would not turn on. It wasn't until I got to work and pried the cover off that I managed to turn it on. Then it turned itself right back off. I'm going to need a new cell soon. Mine is getting lost and breaking.

I mentioned the list of broken items to my friend. She thinks I am in a funk and the Universe is telling me to make changes. I told her I thought something positive is heading my way and old things have to move out. She said that was a good way to look at it.

Despite not returning to work as toned as I would have liked, he did stare at me. Every few minutes I felt his eyes slide over me. I wanted to feel smug but instead I felt hollow. He doesn't want me enough. I realized he probably wants me to pine for him and I have too much pride for that. Every time I saw him looking at me, I started wondering...well, all sorts of things. Not being on the back burner but front and center. Being accepted for who I am. My passion igniting a man's desire instead of scaring him with its intensity. Suddenly I didn't care how much he looked. I was too busy thinking ahead.

What's next? More breaking, more losing, or the calm before the explosion?