I’ve been in Pasadena for a few days, now, and I have lots to blog about but the thing that is consuming all of my energy right now is this:
I know beyond a reasonable doubt that I left three pairs of sandals here.* Two of them are among my favorite pairs. I cannot find them. I have looked in the bedroom closet, under the bed, in the dresser, under the dresser, in the hall closet, in suitcases that are stored in the closet, in the trunk where the spare blankets are supposed to be kept (but instead houses my stuffed animals for some reason), in the linen close, under the couch and, in desperation, the filing cabinet.
The only thing left to do is to ask Husband where they are and pray he doesn’t say something infinitely stupid like, “I got rid of them.”
*Even if I didn’t remember that I had left them here, I just spent a week packing up and shipping everything from Grad School City, so I know they were not there.
[Update: They were in the top drawer of the dresser. I had only searched the bottom drawers thinking that, of course, the clothes would be in the top drawers because you’d want them to be where you could reach them easily.]