Is it just me, or is there always that one thing that no matter how many times you replace it it always ends up coming up missing?
...I swear they just really don't like me so they grow legs and run away...
.
It's just you.
.
.
An aside:
My acquaintance (for the sake of today's discussion, let's call her 'Linzi' (because that's her name)) owned only a couple scissors.
.
For my sanity and the individual well-being of my seven billion neighbors [some overlap], I must be able to instantly lay my hand upon one of the greatest achievements of Modern Science... the miracle we know as 'scissors'.
I need scissors.
I crave scissors.
I must have scissors someplace within my visual circle, or else I hyperventilate, get the shakes, my eyesight goes blurry, and I must lay down for a spell.
After I recover enough to qualify as 'reasonably functional', but only to discover Still! No! Scissors!... well, I am just about done for the day.
.
But 'Linzi' had a tendency to use her scissors, then clear her workspace by hiding her scissors inside walls and deep in abandoned tunnels.
Was there witchcraft involved?
We may never know.
But I have my suspicions.
.
Accordingly, on a visit to the Buck-And-A-Quarter Store, I procured a dozen of their 'Betty Crocker' branded scissors.
(In White, because White goes with everything.)
(I am all about the accessorizing.)
.
From the basement in 'Linzi's' house, I procured a vase abandoned by a former resident.
I worshed away decades of webs and grime, because I think we can all agree, presentation is everything.
Far and away more important than content.
.
Stripping their display cardboards, I inverted the dozen scissors -- sharp-ends 'DOWN' for safety! -- into the sparkling vase, and placed it in the center of 'Linzi's' workspace.
.
Now, some may think this's silly, an extravagant gesture for First Worlder problems.
And I agree.
And yet, I can see no other solution to the delimma delimma dilemna situation.
.
Upon seeing her gift (engineered entirely to ease my abandonment issues), dear 'Linzi' acted appropriately thrilled and appreciative.
But I knew it was all an act, because in a matter of hours, those dozen scissors would be conveniently misplaced.
.
Causing no end to my grief.