Oh dear. Oh dear. The notebook I’d been keeping for the last 18 months to close The Sum of David trilogy? It was missing. Lost. DISAPPEARED off the face of the Earth.
The only thing keeping me from a sharp descent into madness was the fact that I hadn’t really dived into my studio. My hope was that I simply needed to pick up the right pile of junk and it would appear among a chorus of angels and a holy beam of light and probably enough relieved adrenaline that my head would explode.
I turned the room upside down and it wasn’t there.
Hoo boy. Panic time.
Where could it be? In the past several weeks, I’ve been across the country, all around Pittsburgh, and through all sorts of frantic dog-proofing for the house. For a long time, I carried it with me to and from work, but my personality is one that when my schedule is disrupted I forget my usual habits, no matter how long I’ve been doing them.*
I looked everywhere it could be. Then I checked everywhere it couldn’t. Twice.
Finally, after feeling defeated and at a loss at the priceless information I had somehow misplaced, I looked in the only other place it could(n’t) be: under the passenger seat of my car.
I don’t know what made me look there, because it was pretty darn random. But I do know feeling the smooth cover of the spiral-bound cover was one of the sweetest sensations ever.
WHEW and crisis averted!
*When I’m off work for a week, I forget what time my buses come, even though I’ve been catching the same ones for 8 years. Good gravy.