dear universe ..

Was it something I said? Did I leave your toothpaste cap off? Did I cut you off yesterday when our lanes merged? Did I talk too loudly on my phone / take the last Diet Coke / make an inappropriate joke about your mother? Did Scruffy pee on your new white carpet again? Tell me, just tell me, just say it.

My laptop is gone. The universe took my laptop. I’m not sure why. The universe knows I’m a writer. He knows I don’t do back-ups, he knows — he was there watching (I know you were there, Universe!) — that I wrapped up a huge piece of work yesterday. He knows I put off sending the work to my agent, and didn’t get around to it last night, he knows I have six years of files on my laptop — Universe, I know you KNOW!

Whatever. There are fliers around — A. from a previous marriage helped out with that, again (see “dear hawthorne,” below, about Scruffy.) The fliers offer rewards. The universe doesn’t care.

Today I’m rewriting book reviews, Universe. Thanks. Today I’ve arranged to have my chakras all aligned (and please stay out of it!) Today I’m eating clam chowder to prepare to redo six months of work on a thing. Today my hair is dull and listless. (I don’t think that was necessary, Universe — you’ve made your point, but okay.)

If you see a small laptop with a copy of everything I’ve ever written — yes, Universe, you know I loaded backups from old laptops on it, and you know I then lost the disks — please tell it to come home. I will buy candy for everyone, I’ll give you my soul.

Until then I’ll be right here, rewriting book reviews on a strange laptop I barely even know wishing I had crackers to go with my soup. [Sigh.]

(And … cut.)