My lovely, talented, and amazing daughter found my notebook in a place where I would never have thought to look for it and have no idea how it might have migrated there: a bag of toys rounded up and stuck under the kitchen desk a long time ago.

But who cares. It’s found.

What’s funny is, even when I was freaking out about it on Friday, I had a quiet, calm voice in my head saying, “You wrote it once, you can write it again. Everything is fine.” So I got over my upset a lot faster than I might have once. It’s like I’m growing up or something. (Which is good, given that my birthday is this week.)

Off to transcribe.

and just can’t think of what else to do with it: the OhMiBod.

This will bring a whole new meaning to the happy faces of iPodded runners who whiz by.

(Via Feministing.)

I’ve just discovered the downside of writing in a notebook as opposed to writing on a computer.

You can lose a notebook. I ain’t lost track of a computer yet.

Later: I decided to go out for a bike ride and retrace all my steps yesterday from the last place I am absolutely sure I had the notebook, which was at the fountain park with Simon. So I ended up taking a five mile bike ride this afternoon, which is good, but there is no notebook to be had, which is bad. Given the wind we’re having today, if the notebook was out there, it is gone by now.

This’ll larn me to enter in what I’ve fucking written down a little more promptly. Fifty to sixty pages appear to be gone.

Needless to say, I am not a happy camper right now.