I Hate Losing Things
For whatever reason you got up late or something has come along that is making you late to leave the house. Running around the house like a chicken with its head cut off, you do a mental check - cell phones, keys, wallet and/or purse, badge. Badge?
Patting yourself down you start flipping your pockets inside out, checking the purse and looking around while cursing under your breath. In a rush you charge back in, slamming the doors behind you as you start to tear the house to pieces as you desperately seek to remember w hat happened. This is the last place you remember - nope not there, check the floors - nope not there either.
Your mind jumps around wondering if the dogs might have taken it outset as a little treasure or was it that you stealing neighborhood guy who lives next door as he visited you against you wishes. Your eyes fly down to your watch then a new river of crushing flows out of your mouth as you see the valued seconds ticking past. And just as you give up in frustration there the missing item is right where you looked the first time, just like a missing cat.
Somebody needs to fix that darn Murphy's law....
