Today marks the third week that Dan and I have lived in this apartment. (Wait... second week. Third? Oh hell, I don't know... it's been a few weeks.)
ANYWAY.
I spent the first week busting my ASS putting 48 years and a three bedroom house's worth of STUFF away in this teeny three room apartment. I arranged, rearranged, hung, hammered, adjusted, squeezed, stacked, and threw away for DAYS, making this a cozy, comfy, peaceful home.
It wasn't easy, but dammit, I did it.
I literally didn't rest until it was done.
So for the past two (three?) weeks I have been enjoying my surroundings and getting used to where I put everything and appreciating my hard work. Some old habits die hard, of course... I repeatedly go to the wrong wall to turn on the kitchen light, open the wrong drawer looking for silverware, can't remember where I decided the perfect place to keep stamps would be, etc. (Where ARE those damn stamps?? GAH!)
It was while I was fondling the wrong wall looking for the kitchen light switch last night when I noticed the giant phone jack on the wall, right next to my iron scroll sconce.
I did a double take...
Where the hell did THAT come from??
I mean, it's not SMALL, by any means. I go to that wall at least 10 times a day and try to turn on a light that isn't there.... Seriously, how could I have possibly missed it????
I pondered for a few minutes and even checked the pictures I had taken after I decorated the wall to see if the jack was there. (I know, I know... don't judge me).
Naturally, the pictures I had taken cut off the wall exACTLY at the edge of the sconce, leaving out the entire section of wall where the phone jack now appeared.
Yeah, it's almost like I PLANNED this. I am SOOOOOO Karma's bitch sometimes.
Even though logically I know that the phone jack absolutely had to be there when we moved in, somehow I couldn't wrap my brain around it. If it had been there, I would have seen it. I mean, I hammered in nails and hung a three foot sconce an inch away from it. I look at that wall eleventy billion times a day. I keep thinking there's a lightswitch there, for Christ's sake. I've stared at the white thing that's above the phone jack and tried to figure out what it is. (Does anybody know?) I could not have missed it. I simply could not have NOT SEEN IT if it had been there. I'm not THAT oblivious... am I? AM I?
Me: Hey, Dan? Was this phone jack here when we moved in?
Dan:
Me:
Dan: What?
Me: This phone jack. Was it here when we moved in?
Dan:
Me:
Dan: What do you mean, "Was it here when we moved in"?
Me: Was it?
Dan: What the hell are you talking about?
Me: Nothing.
(When your husband stares at you as if you've lost your marbles, it's time to shut up.)
My bottom line is this: Either ghosts, goblins, aliens, and things that go bump in the night managed to sneak into my apartment without alerting me, Dan, or the dogs and install a phone jack OR I truly am that completely unaware of my surroundings.
Since it can't POSSIBLY be the latter, I'm going with the aliens.
Damn dogs need to hone their alien attacking skills, yo... unless those bastards sneak in and install a garbage disposal, which would be completely acceptable. FYI.
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