Don't you just hate it when you can't find find what you want?
And, you know it's where it ought to be.
Back in April, I wanted to start reading Craig Ferguson's memoir, American on Purpose: The Improbable Adventures of an Unlikely Patriot. (Click on that link and it'll bring you to Amazon. Just saying.) It was one of the books that the husband and I got for ourselves last Christmas. He finished it at the beginning of the year and placed it on my pile of books to read that I stacked on the recliner in the bedroom.
Because I got tired of feeling bad that he had to move all the books onto the bed when he wanted to sit on the recliner to read, and then back again when he was done sitting, I thought I'd switch the books elsewhere. I did in February. I brought the pile into the office and wrote a blog post (not an amazon.com link) about what I was not reading. I must have been still in a got-to-be organized mood because I stacked them neatly away somewhere.
I forgot where.
I didn't know that I forgot until I started looking for Craig Ferguson's book.
|Several times, I looked high and I looked low.|
|In the same places.|
|And, several times more.|
I gave up.
A few weeks ago, I began searching for a misplaced credit card.
|I found Craig Ferguson's book in the shelf right behind the black backpack.|
The credit card? We got new cards in the mail the other day.