Am I Going Crazy?? Can you explain the unexplainable?

Hey my fellow visionaries and gigglers! I hope everyone had one of those heart stopping, filled with remarkable moments kind of weeks. And if not, I at least hope you had some good coffee. I wanted to hop on here and share a crazy creepy experience that happened to me yesterday. Even thinking about it right now is giving me major goosebumps. I hope you don’t mind a bit of a story because I wanted to write it in short story form….it has been awhile since I created one and so today I am. Enjoy!

February 10, 2017

 Elaine handed me the papers. Not just any papers…THE papers. The one’s I had been waiting on for forever and a day. “Don’t forget that you need to sign and review these and bring them back no later than next Friday,” Elaine says to me in her raspy, had one too many cigarettes type of voice. Her blonde hair bounces all around face and her too small checkered shirt looks like it is choking her to death, but whatever. She could burst into flames right now and I would not care-not so long as I had those damn papers. I have been waiting, and waiting and waiting for THESE papers and now that I am holding them, it feels surreal. Similar to that feeling you have when you wake up from a dream so realistic, you are not even sure if you are awake or still asleep. That out of body sensation is exactly what I am experiencing right now as I am gazing at these papers. I blurt out, “Thank you so much Elaine!!” I offer her an ear to ear smile and practically fly outside to my car. The elation I am feeling is swelling up inside me and I just feel incredible. As usual, whenever I am feeling amazing, I make a Starbucks run. There is nothing like a large iced coffee to compliment the ridiculously happy mood I am in. Even the weather is agreeable! 72 degrees in February? Yes, please!

Iced coffee in hand, old school music blaring through the speakers, sunroof back and hair flying in the wind, I head home. My son is outside screaming my name when I pull up and all I can think about is how many times I have told him not to ride that scooter in the street. Sigh. Today is not the day for scoldings. I look over at the manila folder containing my precious documents. I decide to slide them inside the little space in between the driver’s seat and the console. Perfectly hidden from view, I figure this is an excellent hiding place and then next week, when Elaine asks me for the papers back, I won’t have to dash back to the house to get them. I am a chronic sufferer of CRS-short for can’t remember shit-and I figure that leaving them in the car serves a dual purpose. I head inside to smooch my man and engage in some well-deserved weekend relaxation.


February 15, 2017

 Fucking Wednesday. I hate Wednesdays. They are like a constant little bitchy reminder that you still have two more days to get through. Someone seriously needs to do away with Wednesdays. No one needs that kind of unsolicited snarkiness in their lives. I am sitting at my desk staring outside and simultaneously watching the clock like a hawk. I don’t know how it happened, but we have been sitting on 2pm for something like three hours. I hear the annoying vibration of my iPhone in my purse. Willing myself to act like I care who is on the other end, I rummage through the mass of completely unnecessary junk and finally extract my lifeline. It’s Elaine. A text: “Hi TaLeah! Just wanted to see if you had had time to review that paperwork. Thanks!” I look up from my phone and dully wonder how I hadn’t thought to turn that in. On Friday, I was all, “I’m handing these in bright and early Monday morning!” Needless to say, my excitement had waned over a weekend of breaking up two million fights and combating 600 tons of laundry. I grab my keys and make my way to the car; vaguely I wonder if I can sneak in a quick drive to satisfy my caffeine craving. Slipping my hand down inside the space between the seat, my heart hits my feet as I realize that the manila folder is not there. “What the hell!!! Where is that folder?!” I literally throw myself into the backseat so that I can get a better view of under the seat. Nothing. No folder. Okay, okay…complete panic mode. My mind is in overdrive right now. Maybe I brought it inside the house and forgot. Of course, I had to have taken it in the house. An entire folder just doesn’t disappear. Should I tell anyone I’m leaving? Nah. I’ll send a text later. Pedal to the floor and everything is a blur as I break every single traffic law ever made. I slam into my driveway and immediately start ransacking the car. I take out every single floor mat, the kid’s car seats and sift through all the French fries and juice boxes littering the back of the car. Nothing. The folder is not here. Forcing myself to walk away from the brink of hysteria, I take everything out of the trunk and search for that folder. After a quarter of an hour, I decide that the folder is not in this damn car. I have checked the glovebox, the pockets on the back of the seats, everywhere. I call my husband who tells me to calm the hell down and check the house. He assures me that he has not seen the folder, much less moved it so the only logical explanation is that I must have taken it inside. Well guess what? The folder is not in the house either. What the hell am I going to do?


February 17, 2017

 I have to go to work today. I called out yesterday. I spent half the day searching every square inch of our house for that folder. I have questioned the children so much that they won’t even talk to me anymore. I spent the remainder of the day sobbing into my couch and wondering how the hell to explain this to anyone. “Oh hey, I hope it’s not a big deal but somehow I managed to misplace the most important documents that I have ever been in possession of. I’m sure you understand.” Yeah right. I can just picture the mob scene that ensues after I make that statement. Sigh. It’s already past 9am; I just cannot delay this any longer. I put on my big girl hat and make my way out to the car. Everyone is gone for the day already and even though the sky is a brilliant blue, I feel like I am in perpetual night. I have fucked up before but never like this. My career is hanging in the balance and probably 10 or so others are as well. Sitting in the front seat, I scroll down my playlist looking for sad music. I turn to put my very expensive handbag, which I will probably have to return seeing as I will likely be jobless in the next ten minutes or so, on the passenger seat. The manila folder is lying on the seat. LYING on the seat. There. Alone. Just lying there in the sun without a care in the world. Lying there as if it had been waiting for me to pick it up and take it with me. “This cannot be this. There is no way that this is this. How?!” Immediately I call my husband and he can offer no explanation and he insist that it had to be there all along and I over looked it. Over looked it?! Absolutely, positively not. Where did that folder come from? Who put it here? Despite the 74-degree day, there are chills running down my spine and my arms are laced with goosebumps. I need to know who put that folder on my seat. I need to know. And I need to know now…


I hope that was entertaining for you guys! Has anything like that ever happened to you, sans the drama? Ever put something away only to realize that it’s gone when it comes time to make use of it? It is the absolute most maddening thing e v e r. Share your stories below!


Until next time, keep smiling.

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