This afternoon I spent some time cleaning out my vehicle for the first time in a couple years. I removed every single item from the cab, vacuumed it out, and put it back together with some semblance of order. For my barrage of various jackets for various weathers, I strung clothes line from one end of the rear of the cab to the next, and hung them all individually on 5 fancy coat hangers I hand selected from the resale store down the street for their width, sturdiness, aesthetic merit, and swiveling heads.
5 coat hangers, and 4 coats. One was a missing. Which one? I quickly deduced that it was my lightest jacket- a hoodie, actually, that zipped up and had my company logo on the breast. It was a nice hoodie. I tried to remember the last place I had it. I couldn’t, though I figured it would be hanging on the hook back at my house, where I always put whatever jacket I happen to wear inside.
All day long the anxiety of weak, hopeful assumptions gnawed at my subconscious. Until at last I made it home, and to my great despair, found the hook empty. Where could it be? I looked hopelessly in a slew of other common places I remembered leaving jackets in the past. I checked my bicycle in the guest house. I checked the pile of books in the bedroom. I checked the pile of clothes in the laundry room. I checked the other pile of clothes in my office. Nothing.
I was at a loss. I couldn’t remember off the top of my head where I had last used it, though I remembered it was last week at some point. I decided to Gandalf it out. Found the quietest corner I could, closed my eyes, and really really REALLY thought about it.
When did I last use it?
Can’t remember.
But there was a flash of something then. Two bits of memory. Like a movie. A guy walking past, nodding “Hi.” Red shirt. Maybe a vest. Maybe a dog. And a woman, on a bike ‘ring-ding!’ pedaling past. Nothing else. Something significant…
What was the last job I had?
Harbor Point.
What was the weather that day?
Cool in the morning-
And I remembered- I had it on that day! Because it was cool. Did I leave it at the house I was working on? I couldn’t remember having it in the house at all. Did I leave it at the second house I stopped by? I don’t think so. I was in my T-shirt when I was chatting in the office, I remember that. Not at the office. Not at the second house. Not at the first. Then-
guy walking past, nods “Hi!”
girl on bike ‘ding-ding!’
I had it on as I was leaving my truck, walking towards the gate. I passed a man in a red shirt, who nodded at me. I noticed the sun was coming out. A woman on a bike rode past on the road, I noticed I was getting a little too warm for even this light jacket. Something about the sight of them, and the thought of the long walk ahead and other people to chat with, elevated my blood pressure and made me warmer still.
And then I remembered- I turned around, went back to the truck, peeled the hoodie off, and tossed it in the back of the cab with the rest of the stuff.
Gandalf sit OVER.
But how could that be? I evacuated that vehicle from top to bottom. I had my jackets in a pile, and I hung them one by one on hangers and zipped them up. There was literally only one explanation and it was both absurd, and anti-biased (in other words seemingly EXTRA implausible):
I must have zipped it up inside of another coat without realizing it. Probably my big poofy winter one. But was I that much of a moron? Logic and evidence seemed to indicate so. Still, it seemed wildly implausible.
Yet, there it was- crammed down the sleeve somehow of the big poofy winter jacket. I never noticed it there. Somehow.
Moral of the story: when you let science defeat your ego, you win much greater rewards.
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