It’s a well-known fact that I work the late shift. I am usually one of the last people into the office and am usually one of the last people to leave. I’m not proud of it, but I own it. I just do not function well before 9 am but by 2 pm, I’m kickin’ things pretty hard! Mondays are Mondays for a reason — the first day of a long work week — and today was especially hard to get going because I’m having a new fence put up at my house and I had to talk to the fence guy to discuss things like which way the gates should swing and why they needed to cut down my two gorgeous boxwood trees1. You know, all the important things. Because of all the fence rigamarole, today was one of those days that I just didn’t have time to finish putting on my mascara2 before I left for work, so I grabbed all my eyeball accoutrements and threw them in my purse. As soon as I stepped into the office, things were in full-swing and I never had time to finish putting on my face.
Shockingly, though, I had a few extra minutes before a 4 pm dr appointment this afternoon and thought I’d take the time to dress up my eyes to impress my doctor and all. He is a plastic surgeon, not to mention someone I like immensely, so I forever feel the need to look my best. I had to fish around in my ginormous handbag for five minutes to get my new-and-not-cheap mascara out and when I finally did, it slipped out of its box3 and fell between the driver seat and the console.
There’s not much space between those two things, but I slipped my hand in the miniscule crack to try and fish out the mascara tube. I didn’t feel anything, so I got out of my car and looked under the seat. I saw nothing. I moved the seat back thinking I’d be able to see it, but nope. I moved the seat forward thinking it had fallen back behind me. Nada. By this time, I was totally late for my appointment, but was determined to locate the mascara that was clearly taunting me. I thought I should shed a little light on the situation, so I got out my iPhone and still saw nothing. I moved the seat forward again and, when I say that I was practically standing on my head, I was practically standing on my head in my backseat looking for this mascara. I put my hand in every nook and cranny within two feet of my car seat and still could not find that mascara. I finally conceded defeat and headed in to my appointment, mascara-less and with hair all a-mess.
I repeated the same exact exercise when I got home so I could really stretch out and could use my hot pink LED flashlight. My contortionistic poses did nothing to help the cause though and, for the life of me, could not fine that mascara! The conclusion? My car eats things. And I am none too pleased about it. All I can say is RIP-new-expensive-mascara-that-accidentally-dropped-between-my-console-&-car-seat-&-sucked-into-the-nether-regions-never-to-be-found-again. I’ll miss you. And so will my checkbook.
1 Thanksbeto the gardening gods, my fence guy is also a master gardener so he helped me figure out where to replant them so they won’t die a terrible, sudden death from being ripped out of the ground for the fence. Ahem.
2 Or as I like to say, “finish putting on my eyeballs”. My work-husband is all too familiar with this refrain.
3Yes, I am anal retentive and keep my mascara in its box. It’s how I keep track of the age of them! Why are you looking at me that way?!
One thought on “My Car Eats Things”
Lol, My sofa dose the same thing I’m still looking for some things.