We've all been a victim of the Borrowers. Those tiny little people that take your stuff from right under your nose for their own demonic use, and only return it after you've been looking for it for many minutes!Picture the scene: strip off, turn shower on. Lean in to check water temp and notice watch is still on your wrist. "ooooooh that was close! My favourite watch too!" you slip it off and put it on the back of the toilet.
You enjoy your luxurious shower, all hot and steamy, switch everything off and exit. After the post shower apocalyptic preening routine (choking on 96 hour deodorant when all it really does is dry your nostrils out for 20 minutes) you go to check the time and realise you're not wearing said watch. "Sure I put my watch there!" you ponder as you look hastily around the bathroom, landing, bedroom, kitchen, shed end of the garden... You head back to the bathroom where you started and boom! There it is in first frigging place you looked staring at you like you've just grown another head or summat! Them bastard Borrowers ...
Well van life is no different. In fact it's worse on a mountainous scale! Such a small space but where the bloody hell does all my shit go? It's like a box of sorcery, making stuff disappear in an instant and only making it reappear after you've wasted half your life looking for it, as if on a mysterious timer. A timer programmed by Lucifer himself. Whilst chuckling. Like a mad man.
Today has been a busy day for the Borrowers. The little shit bags. Amongst items they've selfishly borrowed of mine today are a single shoe, my cheap Chinese heater remote, 2 pens, a pork pie and my phone. So far unreturned is my heater remote and my pork pie. The shoe reappeared exactly where I had left. Next to my foot. But I swear on my Guinea pigs life that it wasn't there for the past 15 bloody minutes! One pen reappeared in my pocket, not where I left it and the other pen on the vans drivers seat. Also where I did not leave it. The pork pie I may have actually eaten, but I can't be sure so the miniature walking dog eggs in hats are getting the blame.
When you live in a van, it's important to find a space for absolutely everything so you know where it is for next time. But the Borrowers make life hell for sure. You can be laying in bed scrolling through the latest list, swiping left, left, left, right, right, screenshot, left, left, screenshot (I definitely don't do that) (ever) and you put your phone down, just for a sec, whilst you reshuffle after sliding down the bed into the bottom right hand corner like a pile of crumpled laundry because you couldn't be arsed to find even a slightly more level pitch, and "Where's my phone? I just (insert expletive of your choice, but make it a string word) put it right (ditto) there!"It's gone. Not even with a puff of smoke. Just gone. Even a puff of smoke would make you feel better because at least then you know you're not going insane...So the whole saga of getting up, pulling the duvet off, shifting the pillows around, shaking the frigging duvet, rubbing your hands over the sheet incase it morphed its way through them, looking under the pillow again, refeeling the sheets and replacing duvet. One more look under the pillow and there it is, just sitting there looking as innocent as Gabriel's halo...So for a tiny home, it turns out they're as gaping as a wizards sleeve.
Right I need to go and look for my phone know. I literally had it in my hand whilst I typ...
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