14 January 2012

An extremely weird and incredibly odd experience...

A couple days ago, Martha had in fact asked if we had a copy of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, which I had read a couple years ago,because she wants to read it.  I said that I'd find it for her.  My bookshelves, much to her chagrin, are unorganized AND stuffed to the gills, making easy retrieval unlikely, so when she expressed interest I told her I'd get it for her.  Which I did last night, taking it off the bedroom bookcase and dusting it off. 

This morning, remembering that I had in fact found it but hadn't given it to her yet, I spent a good deal of time looking to see where I had put it.  I looked all over our bedroom and was confused that I couldn't spot it right away since not enough time had passed that other things (clean laundry, mail, stuff for the new semester, my laptop, other books, etc.) might've covered it up. 

I looked on the bookshelf to see if, after getting it, I had just put it back on the shelf, but it wasn't there -- and I was struck by how I couldn't even find a place where the book had been.  (But then I remembered how crammed my bookshelves can be, so that tight-fittedness wasn't out of the realm of possibility either!) 

So I looked all over the house (the kitchen, family room, dining room, living room, and basement) thinking, maybe, just maybe, on the way to giving it to her I put it down to do something else. 

I thought back to last night and remembered being puzzled that the cover, which I couldn't now describe to Martha, was different than the one I was expecting (i.e., the one seen above).

Then, looking in the basement again, I found it -- with the correct cover -- on a bookshelf.

Clearly I had never found the book last night.  Clearly I had never dusted it off last night.  Clearly I had never seen a cover I didn't recognize last night.

It must have all been a dream.  An incredibly vivid dream.

Either that or I'm being gaslighted!

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