Lost Things

"My roomate got a pet elephant.

Then it got lost.

It's in the apartment somewhere."

Steven Wright

A few days ago I wrote about trying to organize my stacks of paper and make my desk not only more accessible but better looking. Sweetie followed my lead and got about as far as I did. We filled several trash bags with unnecessary things that we once thought were necessary. The very things that may indeed still be necessary but we won't know it until we're looking for it because we need it. That is the reason I keep so much crap. What if I need it?

There was no Masterpiece Theater on last night but I was so stuffed from over-indulging at Carrabba's that all I could do was sit in my chair and flip through channels. I suspected if I went to bed, the bread/pasta/cake combo dancing the tango in my stomach might just explode. I ended up on TLC watch the Hoarders show.

That is one very sad program. It is disgusting in a sad way. To think that people become so cluttered by things and emotions they can't let go of made me stop to look around at my own mess(es). I'm a long way from being a hoarder, but not so far away from the need to clean up, and let go. I used to think I was a pretty good letter goer. I can throw things into a dumpster faster than someone can jump in after them. I've thrown things out in anger, disgust, depression, weakness and maybe even in strength. I've tossed away things I should have kept, and kept things I should have tossed.

Take the Christmas decorations, for instance. I hauled about 6 king sized plastic containers of decorations up the stairs for storage. With each box, I wondered if I needed all those ornaments. But only a Grinch would get rid of family heirlooms, right? Okay so they probably aren't heirlooms but they do hold a treasure chest full of memories.

I got a little off my point which is today was the day Sweetie and I were going to check signing up for homestead exemption off our To Do. Sweetie got the information on how to register on line, then began a 2 hour search for one of the papers we'd need - the deed to the house. He was sure he could put his hand right on it. Remember Sweetie is an organizing fool? In fact I think he's too organized and that's why he couldn't find what he was looking for. Deed was probably sub-filed under House which was filed under Merry ME. While he tore through his files, I sat at the computer filling out the form. Maybe I should say trying to fill it out. It's not that the questions were hard, I just wasn't sure of the answers.

For example: If one has been divorced for 20+ years is she single or divorced? If your divorced, doesn't that mean you are single? Why the distinction? And what about if one has signed her name one way since 1970 but she's listed on the deed with her birth and middle names - not her maiden name. How should she sign?

In the big scheme of things neither is a big deal, but I closed the computer and decided I'd take all the paperwork down to the Property Assessor's office. This decision meant I needed to join Sweetie in the hunt for the missing deed. He fussed. I fumed. I raised my voice but the paper we were looking for stayed lost.

Well, not actually lost, because in a fit of "let's just throw our organized selves on the mercy of the court and show them the Trustee Deed Sweetie put his hand on within 20 seconds of opening the file drawer." That's when we looked at it a little closer. In the upper right hand corner, there was a stamp on it that said it had been registered. AND it had a raised seal on the last page. Could this be the paper we were looking for all along?

Don't you hate it when that happens? As Shakespeare might say, much ado about nothing. Yet both Sweetie and I had frustration hangover, felt "wrong" and needed a chill pill. After that we had a nice little walk through downtown administration buildings and got to see Cubie World at it's finest. Seriously, some of those offices have NO windows. By the time we got to the place we were going, it took all of 5 minutes to file the application.

As an added precaution for ever losing the un-lost deed again, we had 2 more copies made. Sweetie can file one. I can file one, and we'll put one in a safe deposit box. Doesn't that sound like overkill? And doesn't it sound like the kind of logic a hoarder might have used in the beginning of her addiction?

Quoting old Will again, all's well that ends well.

Feeling grateful for the well-organized legally single/divorced man I'm married to in the eyes of God, and Laura, who works in the Property Appraisers office who was not only fast and efficient but very kind. All that while working in a room without a view.

Wishing for you a place for everything and everything in its place,

Merry ME