Screw, anyone?

The other day found me sitting at my desk on my computer doing computerish things. Of course that is to be expected because that is pretty much all I do these days. I don’t recall what I was specifically doing. I might have actually been doing something productive like working on my book. It’s been known to happen!

On this particular day, Squeak had decided to grace me with his company. He moves through the house, randomly choosing new sites to sleep for a few days. Currently he was choosing a garbage bag in my room. He has a tendency towards noisiness when he is settling into nap mode. Grooming for hours on end and shifting thousands of times until he is comfortable (ok so maybe I am exaggerating a bit).


So there I am, vigorously concentrating to the point of sweat on my brow (I am still going with the idea I was actually being productive), when there was a sudden soft thump behind me.

Naturally, knowing Squeak for the mischief-maker that he can be, I immediately blame it on him. The poor guy was caught with tongue out, giving me a wide-eyed innocent look that plainly said "What did I do?" Not actually knowing what he did, I looked around some more. And I found a black screw in the middle of my floor.

""A black screw that as far as I can tell belongs to nothing.

Reviewing the sound that distracted me from my rigid, sweat soaked concentration (it gets more impressive each telling), I acknowledged that it was not likely that Squeak was tossing random screw into the air to land behind me, so I duly apologized to the shocked fella. I searched high and low (mostly high) for a source of this random screw, but as far as I can tell, it came from nowhere. Now this is not the first time I have been accused of having a screw loose, but it is the first time I had definite proof.

I am now keeping a close look out for loose marbles!