While the first year Comp. PhDs [5 total] were at C’s, we stayed with some friends of mine, a couple–Matt & Amy.

Amy is a nurse, kind, yet outspoken. Matt is a high school English teacher, appreciates good beer, and likes to give me a hard time about everything, all the time.

Below is a note I stole from the coffeetable the first morning we all woke up. It’s from Amy to Matt.
What’s funny about this particular bit of writing, to me, is the way we’re referred to, collectively, as “pHd’s” and that we’re not all that good at shutting doors. (Doors needed shutting because they own two huge dogs which would walk in, hair stuff up, slobber, etc.)

Since returning home, I haven’t been able to find the actual note, but I have the photo I took of it. This bothers me. The photo is not enough.

What’s failing me here is my memory. And my filing system, awkwardly enough. My filing system consists of putting pieces of paper in the most convenient place, even if that means the offhand book I’m holding or a pocket. And so on.