obsessions

I can be obsessive. For instance, last night I needed a command hook. My mind couldn’t focus on “Principles of Biostatistics,” as fascinating as that book is, because I needed this $3 command hook to hang my keys by the door. There’s a table by the door, I could easily put my keys there, but no. That’s where books go (am I too picky?). What’s funny is, I’d just been reading about ‘bias mitigation,' ya know, science is everywhere. Still, I searched the boxes that I hadn’t unpacked I looked around them too, did one fall in a crack? Did I have one to begin with? I couldn’t keep track. I texted Charles (across the hall), “do you have a command hook?” “A what?” he replied. So I texted his wife, who went to look. When she didn’t have one, I went back to my book. The chapter was about ‘probability distributions as tools for managing uncertainty.’ How topical, here I was, uncertain about when I’d get that command hook. Never mind an indifferent God, science is obviously listening. It was nearly midnight. I wondered, how late Door-Dash delivered? Would they bring my hook or were there other services I should consider? What about Amazon, Target or WalMart—could one of those be a winner? In the end I had to do without—I gave up at 1am. The miracle of capitalism had failed me—damn. I could study with the hook off my mind. So, I set an Alexa reminder, an alarm on my watch and alerts on my iPhone and MacBook finder, then I wrote a pink post-it note, and put that on my epidemiology binder. I have a standing, pre-dawn jog with Charles, and an idea forming. If we passed an open convenience store, I could buy one in the morning! . . Songs for this: I Want You by Bob Dylan I need you by Jon Batiste