I found my watch while I was looking for my pen. It always happens this way.
I found my blue sweatshirt when I was looking for my black belt and my cellphone charger when I was looking for an extension cord for the Christmas lights.

I’m pretty site this is both normal and completely out of our control. There are very tiny, discrete oranisms with very little to do aside from guide our searches for personal belongings.

It is, of course, this lone of reasoning that has lead to my current predicament whereby I find myself stuck in as airport in Mexico having arrived in full awareness that I had lost my plane ticket and believing so much in my theory and the cosmos that I assumed I would find it while looking for the restroom or, at least, discover the notebook I’d lost last time I was here. That totally would have been worth it.

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