Well, I lost my calendar. I thought I left it at Araceli's cello lesson on Friday. I was so delirious that morning, I drove 10 miles too far on the freeway and had to backtrack, so I could only assume I was tired enough to leave my calendar as we walked out. I literally could not function without the thing. I pestered the cello teacher until he finally searched his studio and came up with nothing. I couldn't think where else it could be, simply because I didn't have my calendar to look at to tell me where I had been. I'm heavily reliant on this document.
Not only does it contain all the kids' performances, rehearsals, tests, vacation days, and due dates, but it also lists my violin students' info, records of reservations, birthdays, confirmation numbers, just everything I need to function without the benefit of thinking. So I was in a fog all weekend. I didn't know who was teaching at church, or how many weeks were left until I had to play my violin in a meeting. I wanted to find a pianist, but I didn't know the date. I wasn't sure if we had anything Friday or Saturday night, and I couldn't plan a minute into the future.
I actually went on Monday morning and found the exact same calendar at Barnes and Noble for 75% off. I was embarrassed when I heard my own sigh of relief when I saw that calendar on the shelf, even if it was just a facsimile of mine. Secretly, I hope that the conventional wisdom was true: that the best way to find a lost item is to buy a replacement. I spent some time trying to recreate my life and write it all down in the new calendar. Then I went to ballet. Halfway through my first class, I opened my three-ring lesson binder and a goofy grin spread across my face. There was my calendar in all its humble glory. I had left it there Thursday afternoon. No wonder I drove 10 miles too far on the freeway Friday morning. I didn't have my calendar. That's the only way to explain it.
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