Thursday, May 22, 2008


CRS - as in Can't Remember S**t. There is a condition even worse than CRS - it is called CRAFT. Can't Remember a F***ing Thing.

Didja ever find yourself walking into another room and forgetting why you were there? You had to retrace your steps to the original room to try to jar your memory what you wanted in that other room. Or - dash around the house looking for a watch or billfold only to find it's on your wrist or in your pocket?

Me neither.

We are given a rather large (to me at any rate) wad of cash at the beginning of the week. Our fuel cards only purchase fuel, so the cash pays for minor repairs, motel rooms, a certain amount per meal, and whatever incidentals we might need. Any cash expense requires a receipt, naturally. I pay for all my meals out of pocket, and when we settle up, I generally have cash coming to me.

I keep my company cash in a magnetic bill holder separate from my personal cash. Before I go anywhere, I usually pat myself down to make sure I've got the cell phone, the billfold, the cash, and the assorted stuff like keys, pocketknife, change, Chap Stick and whatever else. The cash is in my left jeans pocket.

So, after getting back, I needed to stop by WallyWorld to get some refills from the pharmacy. I stepped out of the ol' pickup and patted down. Oh S**T! OH F**K! No money clip. Close to four hundred dollars.

Glad I didn't have a mirror to see the expression on my face. I'd been moving stuff from one truck to another and getting it ready for me to take out tomorrow. It had also been raining and hailing. I had been all over our yard. I was going to have to go back across town and search the ground, the two trucks, the shop, the bathroom - well, I was gonna have to retrace my steps as best I could.

But, since I was going to have to have the refills no matter what, and if someone had found the clip and decided to keep it, my rushing across town like a chicken with my head cut off wasn't going to change anything. So, I picked up the prescriptions and blew off the other minor shopping I'd had in mind.

As I was driving back across town, the thought floated up in my head "Do you suppose the clip could be in the pocket of the dirty jeans I wore yesterday?"

Well. It just so happened my travel bag was sitting on the floor across from me. I pulled back the zipper, rooted around for a second, and pulled out the jeans. I found the left front pocket, and LO and BEHOLD the money clip was right there.

Thank you, God.

Just remember when you lose something, you always find it in the last place you look.


Jerry in Texas said...

I can sooooo relate. I live alone and certain things come up missing. And I know I'm the one who misplaced it. It drives me crazy.

I live by little notepads because I have CRS.

There are days I could hide my own Easter eggs!

Anonymous said...

I'm convinced that evil little trolls come in while I'm asleep, and move stuff, just to f**k with me. And it works.

All my missing stuff is together somewhere, laughing at me.


Sezme said...


IHeartQuilting said...

Funny story! That kind of stuff happens to me all of the time. I have to write everything down in order to rememeber things.

I always hate it when I go up two flights of stairs, then can't remember what I needed, so I come all the way back down - then I remember and have to go back up again.

My Dad always said "where did you have it last?" when we lost things when we were kids. It always made us mad and we always retorted "If I knew where I had it last, it wouldn't be lost!".

Anonymous said...

I lose things, Ted finds things. It works great. :) Though, he has mentioned that he gets tired of looking for all the stuff I lose. Oh well. :)