inbetween

Some bad person (I blame you, reader!) stole one of my text books. It's been missing for a week now, and hasn't come wandering back. I am not at all happy about this.

Not in the least.

So, to be sure that I hadn't just misplaced it or just don't see it on the shelf, I cleaned. I cleaned a lot. I cleaned under the bed (very dusty), the couch (more stuff there, not as dusty) and my desk. I put everything away and made things nice and tidy. I even took all the books off my bookshelf, rearranged them and put them back. I carefully examined each cover and a few of the pages to be sure I just wasn't not seeing the book that's gone byebye.

And I didn't do the homework due Friday, because I couldn't find the damn book.

I got out of bed yesterday morning, sat at the desk to check me email, and the phone rang. Ben asked me if I had found the book.

"No, I haven't found that book." I said, looking longingly at my bookshelf. "I haven't found that book. That book right there, sitting on my bookshelf."

Stop laughing. I don't think it is at all funny.