I know I bought a boatload of cellophane tape on my last trip to whatever store it was.
And now when I need it, I cannot find it.
I’ve looked in all the places you would expect to find tape, such as in the boxes and bags of wrapping paper, in the drawers with the stamps and envelopes, in the desk drawers, and even in the junk drawer, though tape could hardly be considered junk.
But no, all those rolls have vanished somewhere. Or did I actually use them up, perhaps?
It’s not fair to be out of something right when I need it. I am a stockpiler, a buyer of stuff to be stored for a rainy day, either my own or donated for someone else’s. I’m not a card-carrying extreme couponer; someone who shops with a cabinet full of coupons and asks the cashier to force them through the scanner until it whimpers to a halt and a tech guru has to step in with life support. But I do well enough to fill six shelves in an unused bedroom and four shelves in a walk-in closet pretty tightly.
So what happened?
Life did it. Life and too much going on made me forget that something as important as a few rolls of clear tape could make or break my holidays. I keep hearing how we’re supposed to slow down, take time and enjoy the season, look at the decorations, enjoy the food, spend time with friends.
Seriously? I’ve managed two meals in the last forty-eight hours, but I have done four loads of laundry in that time period, plus a 150-mile round-trip to and from my mother’s apartment, plus a 70-mile round-trip to the husband’s car show and a few hours volunteering after that. Oh, and two trips to the grocery store. And you want me to find room for a holiday in here somewhere?
OK, no problem. Let me just text the Holiday Fairy a reminder to pick up some tape on the way back to the house. I’m all out.