As you know, the main Russian questions, which have been topping the top list for a century and a half, are “what to do?” and “who is to blame?”.
In our family, modestly perched on the sidelines of social thought, the main question is different: “Where?” He surprisingly does not leave the agenda, as well as mornings and evenings. Where is my toothbrush? Blue, damn it, what else! Where is my glasses? No, Lord, not these… these are for the distance. Where is my wallet? What-what … You might think I have a hundred of them. Where are those damn keys?
Things are constantly playing hide-and-seek with us, despite the fact that in this game we always drive. After all, you can’t say to the same tie: “Now you look for me,” and crawl under the bed yourself. In connection with this, I can’t help but recall how, in my student years, one of my acquaintances decided to hide in a wardrobe for the sake of laughter at someone’s birthday party. After sitting in it for about an hour, she made a scandal to her husband because no one missed her, and indignantly left the meeting.
The subjects seem to have a sense of humor. things are constantly playing hide-and-seek with us, and we always drive in this game
Sometimes it seems that inanimate objects have a sense of humor. Not to say that it is very subtle, but there is. How else to explain that the glasses, which a minute ago absolutely exactly lay on the coffee table — the traditional place of permanent basing, — left him in a mystical way? According to my long-term observations, most often glasses are hidden from the owners for some reason. In fairness, it should be noted that it takes relatively little time to search for them — on average, about half an hour. More difficult is the case with the keys. These can hide for a much longer period. However, at some point they can’t stand it and begin to tinkle slightly from barely restrained laughter. My international passport became the absolute champion in this sense. Once, hiding, and in the apartment, in early May, he showed up, and in the country, only in mid-July. And then after I straightened out a new one for a lot of money.
My phone rang. Naturally, the first question is: “Who is speaking?” But this is with Korney Ivanovich. In fact, the first question is: «Where is he?» If at this moment I am walking down the street, it, depending on the time of year, can be in one of eight or twelve pockets or in one of the four compartments of the bag, which no longer depends on the time of year. The pantomime scene, which at the same time is performed by me to the perky melody of the ringtone, infuriates my wife coldly, but is always a success with the public.
If we assume that the average citizen — and I proudly count myself among those — spends eight hours a day on sleep, then of the remaining sixteen, no less than two are spent on all sorts of daily searches. The notorious meaning of life has long ceased to be their object, since, as follows from what has been written above, it lies precisely in it.