MAC GIRL: "Oh and here's your access code" ALLISON: "Access code?" MAC GIRL: "To the alternate dimension things get lost to. Science can't entirely explain it, but occasionally wormholes open and transport objects there; There does seem to be a certain correlation between their appearance and when men in particular go looking for something." "As a mother you can now access it."

As I draw this the clutter of my desk is scattered across five others, so I can say with some certainty that my masking tape is not, in fact, among it. Also, why is it that when mothers find something that's been lost, it's inevitably glaringly centered on the surface you've been diligently scouring for the past half hour, yet on those rare occasions you do find some success on your own, its only after army crawling down the entire studio row twice, and even then its not the roll you were immediately looking for, but one you lost two months ago?..

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