This post title is not referring to Madonna's lack of lower body attire at the Billboard Music Awards. Looking at her, however, I was wondering whether she is beginning to develop problems similar to mine.
Yesterday began like any other typical day in the life of...well, me. I got up, had breakfast, walked the dog along the lake, went to the bank machine, watered the outdoor plants and headed for Curves. Since I planned to do more errands after the gym, I took my clothing along. Shirt...check, jacket...check, shoes...check, belt...check, makeup...check, jewellery...check, pants...check. My purple bag was packed and ready.
After the usual thirty minute workout, I went to get dressed. The change area was a tiny, dimly lit space with a bench for peoples' belongings and a modesty curtain. As I removed each item from my bag, my mind wandered. I remembered and longed for my favourite silver earrings. These, along with so many of my possessions have disappeared in recent years. I often envision a huge crevasse...someplace in my house wherein my treasures have taken up residence thus enjoying their own retirement. After all, how else could we explain the odd socks, the missing keys and documents, the jewellery and more?
I began to change my clothing. Shirt...check, jacket...check, shoes...check, belt...check, makeup...check, jewellery...check, pants...er...pants? Panic attack. The bag was empty and there were no pants. I searched through each item again. No pants. I turned the bag upside down...no pants.
"Where are my pants?" I heard myself saying all too loudly. "Drat, I must have left them on the bed."
I received a few odd stares as I strode out of the change cubicle wearing my shirt, belt, blazer, jewellry, makeup and spandex shorts.
Home I went, back into the bedroom only to find...nothing. There were no pants on the bed. I rechecked my purple bag...no pants. Another mystery. I tossed on an alternate, less stlylish pair and went about my business.
Today, I picked up my empty purple bag. Inside, I saw them...pants! There, were the black pants as obvious as could be. There they were as if to say, "I've been waiting for you." I was baffled. I was stumped. Apparently, they returned from the abyss after having changed their mind about joining my other missing belongings in their retirement.
On the other hand, perhaps it was as simple as being unable to see black items in dim light and in a bag with a black lining.