October 18th, 2018


Rejoice again

My mother had an unparalleled genius for losing things in her bed, or rather, in her half of the bed. Cigarette packs, library books, spoons, newspapers... I may have done her one better last night. Was sleeping, woke up to cough, nightguard flew out of my mouth and landed on the floor, Buggrit said I and went back to sleep. This morning I looked for it on the floor. Not there. Looked under the overhang of the futon platform drawers and the unclosing bottom drawer of the Ikea chest. Not there. Pulled chests of drawers out from the wall, releasing dust bunnies, which vacuumed, but no nightguard. Pulled platform drawers out, ditto ditto and ditto. Shoved Ikea chest to the far wall, pulled heavy cumbersome platform into middle of room, peered at other side that sits next to wall. Nowt.

Ah well, thought I, there goes the surplus cash I'd thought to spend on a stove. Sighed, dragged futon higher on platform because it had worked its way down last time I flipped it, checked to see how it lined up with the top edge: and there on the floor at the head of the bed was my nightguard. Futons, so inert when you want them to move, so movable when you want them to stay put. Then shoved everything back where it belongs with my poor poor elbows and wrists, turned on air purifier, and took heavy dose antihistamine because dust bunnies in October are simple overkill.

However: room is now vacuumed and dusted and I have my nightguard back.
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