This is another one of Life's mysteries, but since I cannot sum it up in a single question, I'm not calling it what I called the other three posts (Things I've Never been Able To Understand). This seems to be one of Life's deeper, more complicated mysteries.
'The Mystery of the Missing Whatever-It-Is-That-You're-Looking-For............'
There are loads of things in an average person's home, which will reassure you of their presence and impinge upon your consciousness when you are not looking for them. But the minute you seriously need or want something, it apparently dematerialises, and reappears only when you've either torn out most of your hair, been yelled at by your significant other, or given up in utter frustration. This tendency to dematerialise is especially observed in books and documents, and sometimes Compact Discs. Usually the very CD you're dying to play for your friend. And if it's a book you want to lend your best friend, even though it may have occupied the same few square inches of your bookshelf for months on end, it will hide itself very successfully until the said friend is out of the door, probably doubting the sincerity of your intentions. Bah.
Being my brilliant self, I refuse to concede defeat to inanimate objects, however clever they may be. A friend of mine hadn't been well, and wanted a particular book from our favourite library. I trotted across to the library, and did what I thought was rational and logical- I asked the librarian to help me find it. We hunted high and low, and obviously, I suppose, couldn't find it. ( My own personal style when visiting the library is never to look for a specific book- I will randomly choose whatever appeals to me at the moment. I've read some wonderful books this way). Which wasn't a good feeling at all. I even tried to order the book online, but the sellers don't have a delivery system in our town. I was contemplating a visit to a book shop, but then I remembered that my friend had issued the book out of the library a couple of times, so that was the logical place to find it. But I did have to change my technique...........
The last time I had gone to the library, it was with a single goal in mind- to get The Book for my friend. This time I was much sneakier. I went, as it were, in disguise. I had four books to return, which I returned. I browsed through lots of shelves. I did not speak to anyone at all, let alone declare my intentions. Having picked up a few books for myself, I zenfully skimmed over the shelves. The Book, having been lulled into a false sense of security, was cunningly spotted, embraced joyfully, and triumphantly but silently issued out! It couldn't have vanished from my clutches, but I wasn't taking any chances, was I? Anyway, The Book has gone for a short sojourn at my friend's house, and I'm still feeling mighty pleased with myself!
Once upon a time there was a drawer in our dining room sideboard which was supposed to belong to the lord and master of the house. He was supposed to keep his papers in there. There being some foolish, indisciplined residents in the house as well, random bits of paper, old greeting cards, flyers etc. would infiltrate. The day the lord and master actually looked for something in the drawer was truly dreadful. The children would shiver in their shoes. The lady of the house would try and sink into the floor. Lots of random junk would land on the floor, and the atmosphere would be thick with tension. And he would not be able to find what he was looking for. We were young and foolish then- neither of us knew that the more urgent the document, the more impossible it is to find. The greater the angst, the less success. I would quietly ask what exactly it was that he was looking for, get him away from the scary drawer, and then usually manage to produce the required paper. Since we now have loads more documents, and the lord and master is only Sometimes Resident, I am the official archivist, though sadly I'm never as organised as I'd like to be. But the same rule seems to apply- the more zenful you are, the less likelihood of things dematerialising on you.
What do you say?