A few weeks ago, I was looking for a marker pen, a permanent marker. I searched high and low, in all the cupboards where I have sorted stationery by category (read OCD). There were many markers, in various stages of ‘inklessness’. When I tried to write with them, their energy seemed to fizzle out by the time I drew a mere squiggle.
This is undoubtedly one of ‘those’ laws at work. And during this hunt for markers, I only saw scissors. Every room, every pencil holder in our home seemed to be teeming with scissors. Small and big, red and yellow.
Even on my work desk there was a big, cheerful looking scissor that seemed to say, “Hi!”
Image Courtesy – Cliparting.com
My search proved futile and I had to go out to buy a marker.
Cut to yesterday. I was in the kitchen preparing to make pizza. I took out the cheese packet, and looked for a pair of scissors. I usually have two in the kitchen.
Looked everywhere, couldn’t find them. My work desk scissor was also missing. Could only find a blunt, old pair of craft scissors.
Where were the rest? Did they hear me whine that there were too many of them? Had they walked out? Were they all hiding somewhere, gloating at my helplessness, and hoping that I would realize how useful they are.
I do. I do.
As of this morning, they are still missing. Maybe if I go looking for paper clips or something, I will find all of them.
Come back, you guys.