The Institute for Research in Human Happiness

Nestled in Shinagawa City, between the Tōkaidō Shinkansen station and the places where name-stealing monkeys live is a broken-down house. It's a secret place that Yoko told me about once. A place where broken bottles reform, light bulbs flicker, and if you work it just right -- you can fall without crashing.

It's a place where those little voices in your head seem just a little bit louder than you think they should be, where your eyes tend to focus on the corners of picture frames, and everyone carries umbrellas under their arms even though there's never a cloud in the sky.

It's a place that isn't going to be around very much longer.

Somewhere inside that broken-down house is a desk, and somewhere on that surface amongst the piles of shuffled papers stacked according to relevance and date is my cel phone.

I can't believe I walked out the door without it this morning. I'm absent-minded by nature, continually leaving keys and freshly-poured cups of coffee in places they seem to sit comfortably, only to realize moments later that I can't remember where those places actually are. It's an annoying trait, but one it seems I've come to deal with over the years. I keep a set of jumper cables in my truck so I can get it started again anytime I realize I've left the lights on all day. I don't have to use them every day, but knowing that they're there keeps me from getting too angry at myself whenever it occurs.

The weird thing about it is that this sort of thing never happens with my cel phone. It's simply something that I always remember to put in my pocket when I'm walking out the door. Probably because it's the only phone I have. If that weren't enough movtivation, I don't wear a watch anymore so I rely on it to tell the time. Not that I get tons of calls every day, or that I'm talking into it every moment -- but it's the primary method I use to keep connected with the people I care about. If I see something silly I'll send a text message about it, if I find something memorable I'll try to snap a picture. When it rings out loud it plays a NonPoint song that no one in my office has probably ever heard before, and when I've set it to silent it's only my leg that it vibrates against. It's the parrot on my pirate shoulder, and as cliché as it sounds, I really feel kinda naked not having it with me right now.

The problem is, I'm not sure if I really like that feeling.

I mean, it's just a phone. It's just a thing. Sure it's full of gadgets and conveniences that I grown accustomed to using every day, but it's not like I can't get by without it. Sure I might miss a message or a call, but those are easily returned, and usually not that big a deal.

So why do I feel so focused on this?

Yesterday morning I got off to a late start and felt like I was rushing all morning just to get out the door. I got dressed, packed up my stuff, put my phone in my pocket, poured a cup of coffee, headed to the car, and started driving.

Only to realize a few moments later that the coffee was still on the counter.

But by that point I was already running late, already on the interstate on-ramp, and there was really no choice in the matter. It's just a cup of coffee anyways, it's not like I couldn't get another one at work -- I think I was more angry with myself for not remembering to pick it up than I was over the lack of something to drink while I was sitting in traffic.

So this morning I made a special effort to make sure I didn't forget my coffee again. But then at almost that exact same point on the road, just as I was about to head over the Fuller Warren bridge I had a flash of memory that told me something wasn't where it should be -- which sure enough, it wasn't.

Two days in a row.

Lately things have been like that. Not so much that I've been forgetting things in the morning, but that every day there's a point just a little too late to do anything about it where something I needed to remember or was going to do flashes into my head. Updating the blog, buying a new book of stamps, making that mix CD.. I don't know -- things have been kinda scattered lately, and it's hard to understand exactly why.

Not that I haven't had other things to focus on, work's been really busy lately catching up after my trip -- but that some of these things I'm finding myself coming up short with are things that I've always made time for in the past.

I mean, it's not like I haven't had anything to write about lately -- what with everything happening at the office, the tensions and dramas leading up to and instantly melted away the moment I arrived in Maine, or the maddening sense of isolation and loneliness that has followed me like a shadow ever since I had to come back -- but for whatever combination of reasons the blog has gone unfettered for almost two straight weeks. It bothers me too, because I was really on a roll there -- but for the last couple of days even when a moment of free time has presented itself the motivation to sit and try to encapsulate it all hasn't been there.

Almost like I'd left it on a counter somewhere and walked out the door without it.

[Listening to: Taproot, "Birthday"]