Unbeknownst to me, Alan had left an adorable, punny note on my granola bars because I had mentioned that I was bringing them to work! Brimming with happiness, I texted Alan to thank him, and this was his response:
And that, dear friends, is how I discovered that my apartment was chock full of these little notes.
Resisting the strong urge to run home and tear my apartment apart searching for them, I instead feverishly brainstormed increasingly improbable potential hiding places. The kitchen cupboards? The cookie jar? Inside a book? Under the rug? On Alibi?
By the time I got home, I had remembered that my K-cups had seemed slightly askew when I brewed some coffee that morning. At the time, I had chalked it up to Alibi playing with them, as she sometimes does, but by then I knew better. Sure enough, when I pushed the K-cups aside:
Invigorated by my discovery, I conducted a search of my apartment, but couldn't find any more! Alan was diabolical, and the thought of undiscovered notes was driving me insane. Part of the issue was that Alan refused (and continues to refuse) to tell me exactly how many notes are hidden, although he has promised to tell me when they've all been found.
By the end of last week, I had relaxed my search, and resigned myself to having to simply happen upon them naturally. Thursday evening, I was preparing Alibi for a weekend alone (Alan and I went to Bass Lake with some friends). Imagine my delight as I discovered not one, but two notes, attached to my ice pack to keep Alibi's wet food fresh, and the kitty litter box:
The ice pack was leaning in a way that I couldn't see the note, and I had two kitty litter boxes stacked on top of each other, such that I simply hadn't been looking at the bottom box when cleaning the litter box. I thought, surely I have now found them all, and texted Alan to confirm, but his response made it clear that he wasn't kidding around:
Only [redacted] more to find!Seriously, who redacts text messages?! I spent a relaxing weekend reading books and doing crossword puzzles on the beach, but in the back of my mind, I was still trying to brainstorm more note locations.
Yesterday, I got home from work a little early, so I decided to clean my apartment. I reached for a paper towel (which, apparently, I use quite sparingly), and discovered this:
My wet hands got the note a bit soggy. Then, as I was taking the bag out of my little trash can, I found this waiting for me at the bottom:
I still have no idea how many sticky notes remain hidden in my apartment, but I'm growing more comfortable with the idea that I'll discover them in due course. They are a wonderful little surprise that really brighten my day and make me feel loved. Now, I just have to think up a good way to
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UPDATE:
Apparently, I also never use all four of my bowls! I just spotted this (turned the other way in the cupboard) while working from home and making myself some lunch:
Alan informs me that this is the final sticky note that was hidden. I'm definitely bowled over.











