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I swear I'm becoming psychic. Most things don't even surprise me anymore, but this last (short) saga just took the biscuit. A few days ago, I went to a friend's house for Christmas dinner (he gave me a very nice skeleton statue, but that's another story). As the public transport doesn't run on Chirstmas day, I had to go home on foot, a walk of several miles. The next day, I discover that my little army notebook, the one in which I keep all my notes for my X-fic and which i take everywhere, is missing. I turn most of my room upside down to look for it (and do a bit of new-year's cleaning while I'm at it) but find nothing. I turn the rest of the house upside down. Same result.
Now normally at this point I'd be panicking. This is the notebook which contains practically everything I've written for that fic. It has drafts, background notes, character summeries, the works. If it's gone, all I've got to rely on are my history books, which are certainly not the same thing. I should be panicking. But I'm not. Despite trying constantly to convince myself that it's gone, that it probably fell out of my pocket and I'll never see it again, I'm utterly certain it's in the house. I simply can't convince myself otherwise. For most of the last few days it's been constantly on my mind.
Today, I'm getting ready to go out when I notice a little sheaf of papers sticking out of small cabinet on the floor. I bend down and everything seems to go in slow motion, because I know what it is even though consciously I'm trying to convince myself it probably won't be, to save myself the disappointment. Guess what? I was right. It was in there all along. I wasn't even surprised. Delirously happy yes, but suprised? No.
Now normally I can get over losing things, even very important things like that. I get over them quite quickly and cope with the result well, it's one of the things I pride myself on, but this would simply not go away. And I knew perfectly well that at some point in the future I would look back on this time and smile at how frantic I'd been when it had been there all along. And again, I was right.
Well, I guess it keeps things interesting, and I am a very happy bunny to have found my notebook, psychic powers or no psychic powers.
Now normally at this point I'd be panicking. This is the notebook which contains practically everything I've written for that fic. It has drafts, background notes, character summeries, the works. If it's gone, all I've got to rely on are my history books, which are certainly not the same thing. I should be panicking. But I'm not. Despite trying constantly to convince myself that it's gone, that it probably fell out of my pocket and I'll never see it again, I'm utterly certain it's in the house. I simply can't convince myself otherwise. For most of the last few days it's been constantly on my mind.
Today, I'm getting ready to go out when I notice a little sheaf of papers sticking out of small cabinet on the floor. I bend down and everything seems to go in slow motion, because I know what it is even though consciously I'm trying to convince myself it probably won't be, to save myself the disappointment. Guess what? I was right. It was in there all along. I wasn't even surprised. Delirously happy yes, but suprised? No.
Now normally I can get over losing things, even very important things like that. I get over them quite quickly and cope with the result well, it's one of the things I pride myself on, but this would simply not go away. And I knew perfectly well that at some point in the future I would look back on this time and smile at how frantic I'd been when it had been there all along. And again, I was right.
Well, I guess it keeps things interesting, and I am a very happy bunny to have found my notebook, psychic powers or no psychic powers.