I have a working theory that I use to explain everything that goes missing in my life.
At any given time, I can’t find something. Usually “somethings”. My average is three to five lost items at any given time.
When I find something, it just means something else will end up getting lost. I refuse to acknowledge that this has anything to do with my general air-headedness. It’s like entropy, or something. An unavoidable law of physics.
Right now, the list contains
the “little plastic thing”
one earring with a beige, lamp glass bead that has a skeleton on it (sort of)
and my ATM card
Earlier this morning, the list also contained my favorite nail file. But I found that, while looking for the ATM card.
I am thinking, since cash is not pouring out of my bank account like water from a tap, that there is a perfectly logical explanation for the card being missing. Either I put it in a pocket I don’t know I have (and this has happened before). Or I did something stupid with it, like use it for a screwdriver or to scrape off a label. And then I laid it down, and can’t remember where.
And now, I am working my way around the living room, pulling up couch cushions, like it will be necessary to sneak up on the thing to catch it, and trying to blame entropy.
I do things like this a lot. Even as I am doing them, there is a little voice in my head saying “This will not end well…”
And then there is the other little voice, which says, “Do it. Come on. You know you want to…”
This is like the last time I lost my Discover Card. It was gone from the first day of our vacation to Disneyland in late August, until January 13th. I found it, in a bin of junk that normally sat between the car seats.
Apparently, I dropped it, while checking to see if I had it, because I had become neurotically convinced, on the way to the airport, that I had forgotten to being it along on vacation, and needed to find it immediately.
And just as immediately, I lost it. File the whole experience under ‘self fulfilling prophecy.”