The lens of fate

Hello loyal friends. We could make this a post about how much I suck or you can just let me lay it on the line. I suck. I truly believe its going to get better. I could try to explain where Ive been but it would really not make sense to anybody but possibly Gill and Madame Fabu because my reasons for absence would sound obscure and stupid to everyone else but I assure you they are entirely real and 100% logistical. (no crisis or illness or even lack of motivation to blog. Its there my friends. I am just having pure logistical problems) In lieu of describing them in tedious detail (too late? Im so sorry!) I will allude to them with a small tale. Let me preface the tale with disclaimer that I am here not because I have solved the problem but because I am braving these severe logistical conditions because my dearest sega continues to be a rockstar in every way and has expressed the need for updates. Ok so here is my little morality play.

Did you ever have one of those moments in time when you are involved in something and you are about to take an action and a very loud voice in your head is yelling "THIS IS A VERY BAD IDEA!"? Ok I know several of my realtime friends (Luckybuzz comes to mind in particular)can relate to this both about themselves and about me re: the late 80s and early 90s. Im not talking about THAT kind of bad idea. Im talking about the kind that happens when you are absorbed in an activity that requires you moving between several different rooms and are spontaneously approached by your two year old to take off your glasses. As you take them off and put them somewhere that is cognitively identified by you as "NOT A SAFE SPACE" (but not identified in terms of specific location of course...), you immediately stop thinking about your glasses and your two year old's sudden interest in them.

Needless to say, I had this type of moment on Friday morning. I did not think about my glasses at all until several hours later when Gill and I were in our bedroom cleaning and Gill suddenly said in a very alarmed tone of voice "Crse." I look up and he is holding one lens that clearly belong(s)(ed) to my glasses. Friends, it was like finding a human hand belonging to someone you did not even know was missing. Frantically we started tearing apart the bedroom. We dissembled the bed. We emptied drawers. Of course I flashed back to that moment in time (still believing for some ludicrous reason that the glasses were still where i left them despite the clear dismemberment that took place). Nothing. Friends, we looked as much as we could Saturday. We literally tore apart the furniture in the living room in a desperate attempt to find some sort of forensic trail of evidence. Nothing. At one point, I even tried a trick that actually worked on Norm when he was the turnips age.

"Baby? Will you help mommy find her glasses?"
"Nope".
"Do you know where mommy's glasses are?"
"Glasses."
"YOU help mommy find them?"
"Nope".

Cut to Sunday night and I am reliving the moment over and over trying to remember what the hell I was doing when it occurred. Bonsai calls me. She is somewhat stressed because she went back to school and because well...she lives with my brother which would require anyone to need sedative medication. I am telling her the story to cheer her up. (She does enjoy her nephews so). And I am stretched out on my bed and Im looking at my exercise bike which is about two feet from me. I suddenly remember Gill mentioning at some unrelated to frantic searching moment on friday that the bike sounded like something was stuck inside. Yup. Guess who's polishing his fine motor skills....