I joined Paperback Swap (sorry, too lazy to give a link) a month or so ago and between that and my trips to the Book Barn (sorry again) and consignment stores I'm slowly drowning in books. They're sliding off of couches onto the floor and under the bed and really just about every where I look there's a partially read book just taunting me with my inability to commit. I can't tell you the last book I finished.
It snowed a few inches last night and this afternoon I decided to make a run to the grocery store. I swept my car off and then proceeded to lose my car keys. Twenty minutes later I proceeded to lose my shit. John told me to calm down because we knew they were in a fifty foot radius so they had to show up eventually. I reminded him of the forty-eleven things I've managed to permanently lose... all within a fifty foot radius. I did find them, eventually. They had fallen out of my coat pocket and into the snow. Yes, I knew I'd find them. But goddammit I'm sick of losing shit and misplacing shit and really, it's just exhausting.
Movie's I've half-way watched this weekend: The Ghost and Mr. Chicken and Bell, Book and Candle. Which has prompted me to wonder why on earth Don Knotts and Jack Lemmon never did a movie together. I would've paid real money to see that shit.