I drove all the way up to Salt Lake City on the off chance that it was there. Because when you're stuck rehashing all your life's misdeeds that's the kind of stuff you do so you can sleep better.
It was at my mom's! The last name was scribbled out and mom can't read under scribble. But I can (I'm gifted!) and indeed it was the correct name.
So I'm relieved because I can right a wrong after so many years.
A sister gets to have a surprise wedding present she thought was lost forever. That makes me happy.
But then I'm annoyed.
Because remember, underneath it all I'm selfish and thoughtless.
#1, there's no super-special writing in this book. In fact, there's none at all. That doesn't take away the sentimental value necessarily. But still, that was the clue my mom was told to find. You'd think people would know that about their siblings' belongings from over a decade ago. Sheesh!
#2 I'm annoyed at my mom for not being able to read under scribble.
#3 I'm annoyed that my anxiety kicks my butt so hard and brings back all those things I thought I had forgiven myself for years ago. Evidently I haven't. Does this mean I have to go to therapy again? Because if I'm going to pay that kind of money, I want some kind of warranty to go with it this time.