MYSTERIES OF DISAPPEARING STUFF

If ever I were to believe in parallel universes, it would be now. Things are disappearing. Not just my stuff. Our stuff — from eyeglasses to written notes, from kitchen items, to sleepwear.

The first vanishing event was the disappearance of Garry’s computer glasses. These are prescription glasses and they never left the house. The case in which they were supposed to be was where it belonged, but the glassed that had been in the case were gone. Garry and I looked everywhere they could possibly be then everywhere they couldn’t possibly be. We checked every room in the house. Under the bed, behind the bed, in both bathrooms, the kitchen. We moved the small sofa and did a bright flashlight sweep under the other one. It also wasn’t in the Duke’s cave, aka “the crate.”

No sooner had we given up hope of ever finding Garry’s glasses — he still misses them — my big blue covered drinking cup vanished. It’s big. It was bright blue with a matching lid and had its own bright red straw. This is an item that is always in one of three places: the sink for washing, the living room next to where I sit, or overnight on my night table.

When it went missing. I stiffened my upper lip and bought new covered drinking glasses for Garry and me plus an four extra smaller (covered) drinking cups because we should not be so limited that the loss of a single cup puts us into a frenzy. Other cups had been tossed due to breakage or getting too yucky to use, so we were down to our last two. Now we each have two big ones each and there are four smaller ones which are used for everything from malteds to morning orange juice. I keep my eye on them because these covered glasses (okay, plastics) are not cheap, but we have learned the hard way that if you use a computer a lot, we should have lids on anything liquid. Covered glasses are cheaper than new computers.

I thought we’d settled down after that, but a couple of days ago, I had to call BlueCross to get their mailing address. I have to pay the first month’s fee myself, but by April, it will be deducted from our social security checks. Garry saw me write it down. He went to the kitchen to dump a bunch of trash (some might have called it mail) while I stayed put and never moved from the sofa. When he came back, I couldn’t find the information. The paper on which I’d written it was gone. I hadn’t moved or even stood up, but the paper was gone. Kaput. Whoosh.

We never found it, but at least I could just call BlueCross again and get the same information. I still don’t know where the paper went.

This morning, my favorite blue nightgown disappeared. I came out of the shower and put on my bathrobe. I had an empty plastic container in one hand and my gown in the other. I needed to throw the bottle into the recycling bin, after which I was going back to the bedroom to put my nightgown under the big cushions on the bed. I got back to the bedroom, but I didn’t have my night gown. My hands were empty. I must, I thought, have left it in the kitchen or the bathroom. But it wasn’t there. Or here, Or anywhere.

It was my favorite — and also my newest — item of sleepwear. I’m very fussy about sleepwear. I don’t replace it often because it’s expensive. This was my favorite. The perfect weight and not so voluminous as to wrap me in folds of fabric.

Sleep and things will vanish while you slumber — or maybe not

Regardless, it’s gone. Like Garry’s glasses, my cup, and the notes. All have traveled to that misty mid-region or parallel universe. Wherever it went, it’s gone.

Where IS our stuff? Was it stolen by tiny gremlins who smirk with glee as they sneak away with our stuff? A “hole in reality” — the kind of thing science fiction writers are so found of. Suddenly, oh look! There’s a hole in reality. Step through it and voila, you have traveled to the past. This simplifies the entire time-travel technology issue.

When a mysterious hole in time appears, grab your gear and go. Alternatively, hang on to year gear lest it go wherever the hole leads — without you.



Categories: Anecdote, Humor, You can't make this stuff up

Tags: , ,

12 replies

  1. This does seem quite strange. Usually they turn up in the most unexpected of places.

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  2. We’ve been having the same problems. Some things got lost when we moved. My desktop HDD where I had stored a lot of my photos. I haven’t seen it in two years and Naomi’s passport are the most serious losses.
    Naomi recently decided to buy a St Anthony figurine as he is supposed to be the saint who helps you find lost things.
    She’d lost a little Barbie sized backpack, we blamed Tigerwoods, her cat and turned the room upside down looking for it. Just before I went to the shop to get the mail including the parcel with the figurines, I found it in a drawer she hadn’t checked. Yesterday, a parcel that had been marked delivered but which we had not received turned up at a neighbours place. It had been delivered there at least a week ago but the house, across the street from us, is a weekender and nobody was there until yesterday.
    Coincidence perhaps but St Anthony seems to do a good job.
    I hope you did not throw your nightie in the recycle bin too.

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    • Maybe St. Anthony would help us, too. One saint can do a lot of work, right?

      My nightgown showed up exactly where it was supposed to be — and where I looked not once, but at least three times. The rest of the stuff has gone, presumably forever. I know when I stash things in “safe places,” they tend to be unfindable until one day, I open something like a piano bench and find lost jewelry (the piano bench? did I really put it there? was I high?). I find some really expensive lost jewelry in the bottom of Garry’s underwear drawer and I KNOW I wouldn’t put anything there. I do sleepwalk, however so that’s a possibility. However, all the recent losses were while I was fully awake and not trying to store anything. They just disappeared. It’s weird.

      I actually looked in both the trash and the recycle bin for the nightgown, Garry’s glasses, AND that cup. Just because if you aren’t think about it, you sometimes toss things without intending to. But nothing. Those bins aren’t huge AND they are in the kitchen, so if they weren’t there, it was pretty obvious.

      There is (according to many Sci Fi writers) special planets were lost socks, missing pens, and other things like that go. Also, as I recall, a special planet for disposed of mattresses. I should get myself a spacecraft and go a-hunting!

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I lost electric shavers.
    We searched the house to no avail, then one day found a gear wheel.
    Alongside the dogs bed!
    Yep, you got it. The dog had taken TWO electric shavers into his bed and carefully dismantled them. I say carefully as I was able to rebuild both of them and get them working.
    Go figure, our dog was a furry mechanic!

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    • We actually looked — as well as we could — in Duke’s crate. He stores all kinds of stuff in there from old paper napkins to bones he isn’t ready to give up on (he may NEVER give up on those old bones). No luck. Now he might have stored them somewhere else, although my cup was a big 20 ounce megacup, so I’m pretty sure we’d have noticed it by now. Garry’s glasses, on the other hand, really could be just about anywhere.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. It’s a mystery.

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  5. It’s the wormhole in the washing machine that takes odd socks. The science is in on that! πŸ™‚

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