Listen to the Little Man

I have a little man inside my head. He always has good advice. I don't always listen. I am trying to learn from this. For example: The other day I had our addition plans on the kitchen table. I was looking over them with Judith. When I saw them next they were under a pile of newspapers. The little man said I should move the plans otherwise they would be recycled with the papers. Really, as soon as I looked at them he said it: "you are going to recycle those by accident and you won't have them anymore so move them." So, I moved them, but not too far I guess. And I knew that too. I knew I should have put them somewhere not in the kitchen where the mail and the newspapers get recycled every day.They must have gotten mixed up in the papers the next morning because they are now gone.

The trash guys picked up paper recycling early this morning. I slept in. When I came downstairs I didn't think anything unusual was going on. Then the man started speaking to me again. And I immediately knew the plans were gone. "The addition plans got recycled today. I told you so," he taunted. We frantically searched every where possible. I called Judith to see if she recalled seeing them anywhere other than on the kitchen table. "No," she said. I called Clay Stanbaugh to see what the reality of recovering something mistakenly thrown in the recycling. The guy almost laughed at me. "No, sorry, that would be impossible, mumble the dump mumble, have a nice day," he said.

Frank and I couldn't remember the name of the architect although we're pretty sure we saw him walking on York Road in Towson soon after we realized the plans were missing. It's been five years since we saw the guy, so maybe it wasn't him. But we did both think it was him. I remembered then that there was some info in the file cabinet about the renovation plans and lo and behold, there is a preliminary plan and a phone number of the guy. Hopefully he still has copies. I tried calling the office but was hung up on each time. Not because of anything I said but the phone would ring and the answer would be the click of the callee hanging up.

The situation is not dire, it's only ink and paper after all. But damn it, what a hassle. So, the moral of the story is: Listen to the little man. He is there for a reason. He is there to keep your life running smooth. The only problem I find is that I never know if he's really right or not unless I d0n't listen to him. Then, things always go just like he said they would. And it's usually an unfavorable outcome. And whenever I don't listen, I can't help but to feel like George Costanza. And that's never a good feeling.