I am the type of person who likes to put things in 'safe places'. These 'safe places' are better known as 'someplace I will never remember where it is and effectively cause me to lose whatever object I wanted to keep safe.'.
In a way I suppose lost things are safe when they are lost where you put them. They are still there, and most likely no harm is coming to them. Most likely. There really is no way to know unless you find them again, which typically happens when you are doing something like moving. Also you normally find said items when they are no longer of any use to you.
So Wednesday night, as I was climbing into bed I realized that the bottom drawer on my nightstand was open about 1/4 an inch. I mean just barely open. This would not be so odd if I ever actually opened my nightstand drawers. The top drawer has a broken flashlight in it, and some batteries for the broken flashlight, but otherwise it is empty. I can't actually remember the last time I opened the top drawer, let alone the bottom drawer.
Alas I was tired and so I just shut the drawer (because I can not stand to be around partially (or fully) open drawers) and went to sleep. The mystery did not so much as register in my brain. Apparently my curiosity is curbed by sleepiness.
Last night however, I was wide awake as we were getting ready for bed, and I suddenly remembered the partially opened drawer. I figure most likely I actually opened it in my sleep. It really is the sort of thing I would do. I did remember catching a glance of something in the drawer when I shut it the night before even though I was fairly certain that drawer was empty. Now being completely curious, I went over and opened the drawer to find: a pair of khaki pants.
Now I really was not all too confused by this find. A million years ago I had put a bunch of clothes that had become too small into that drawer (back when we lived under the delusion that we could live out of a dresser and not the laundry room) for safe keeping and the day I could fit into them again.Of course I thought I had cleared all those clothes out a while ago, but obviously I was wrong.
Out of mild curiosity I opened the top drawer to see what might be in there; broken flashlight, batteries, a dead and ancient cell phone, some chain maile rings, and a black tank top. I pulled the shirt out to take a better look, and I was completely confused. It had sequence on it (which I don't really do), it was also lacy, and it was cut in a style I don't wear (a sort of empire waist thing I can't manage in commercially made clothing because they assume my boobs are much smaller and higher than they are and the line always cuts me across my breast which is really unattractive). Now it was in my size, and from a store I shop at, and it was from their pajama/intimate line of clothing. I for the life of me can not remember buying this shirt. I don't think I would ever have done such a thing. I can't remember being gifted the shirt either. Hell I can't remember putting the shirt in the drawer.
I have no idea where this thing came from.
So here I am with a shirt I do not recall, and a pair of pants I haven't seen in 5 years that I had forgotten about. I check the size of the pants and realize, hey they should fit me again. So I try them on, and hey they fit me again! Score!
The shirt I also tried on and, as expected, it cut me right across the breast in a very unflattering way. I still have no idea where the thing came from. So I stuck it back in a drawer (a different drawer actually in the dresser).
So that was an adventure and a lesson in my habit of 'safe places'. I think perhaps I should maybe write these things down, though then they would not be as safe. Of course why I care if someone else finds a shirt I don't recall buying or receiving and will never wear is beyond me.