Yup. I am finally putting stuff away, and I move a pile of junk that has been sitting on the stairs. I have been walking up and down past this pile of paperwork for days, just waiting to organize it. My strategy is to leave it on the stairs because if I actually take it and put it somewhere, I'll forget about it and forget to file important papers.
Today, though, I decide to move the pile.
There, right there, and I do mean RIGHT THERE on the stairs, the same stairs I use at least two dozen times a day, is the partially-filled container of ice melt that I swore I had but couldn't find during the last three days of ice. I have been slipping and sliding my way to and from the car, and I resorted to buying three containers of table salt when I couldn't find a store with the driveway version. Yes, the damn ice melt has been under my nose the entire time.
Turns out the empty container I thought was the empty ice melt is actually the old container of ice melt that was refilled with kitty litter. I am out of kitty litter, not ice melt.
This complete and total blind spot to the ice melt seems almost unfathomable, except that my son has walked past the container, as well. I am having company today and I don't want anyone slipping and dying in the driveway, so I head outside to spread some ice melt.
Good choice. Right? Wrong. It's in the mid-forties outside, and most of the ice has melted away.
Oh, well. I try. My heart is in the right place (even if the ice melt isn't).
