Oh, Memory, where art thou?

I was picking up some books at the library today and while I was checking them out, the librarian asked me if I wanted to renew another book I had out. Mmm, I thought to myself, I’m pretty sure I returned that one last week. Just to be safe, though, I nodded to her. Renewing is safe…less late fines, that way.

When I returned home, I checked my bedside table, where I’m sure I last set the book(just before I decided to return it). Nope, not there. I checked my library book basket. Nope, not there. I checked a few other places I knew it wouldn’t be, but I had to be sure. I guess I DID return it, then. I’d have to make the call to the library and ask them to double check the shelves. After all, this has happened to my girlfriend. It could happen to me. I did not want to pay to replace a book I HAD returned.

If only I knew for certain that I had returned it. I know I thought about returning it without finishing it. One can only fit in so many books.

So, I checked my bedroom one last time. I remembered Buddy the Cat sometimes pushes things around on my nightstand, looking for plastic to chew (yes, he’s weird that way). I glanced on the floor beside the stand. Well, looky looky. There was THE BOOK, topsy turvy in the corner on the floor.

I’m so glad I waited before I called the library!

So much for this memory of mine. There are fewer and fewer things I know for certain anymore!