WHY WE LOSE THINGS

Hey, Dr. Freud, a little help here, please.

Why do we lose some things and not others? What is it about cell phones, keys and eye glasses that make them so losable?

There are so many things you wish would get lost in life like that volume of Black’s Law Dictionary Hepcat found at a stoop sale that manages to find its way out of the garbage every time I throw it away.

He simply won’t let me “lose” it.

Or how about those Happy Meal toys from McDonald’s that seem to turn up everywhere? Why don’t they just disappea

But keys and cell phones. I’ve lost one Razr and one Nokia. And my eyeglasses that made me look like a hip architect are GONE. Lost about three months ago.

I looked everywhere. I thought I left them at Old First Church during one of OSFO’s piano lessons and checked there. I checked every where I went on that day. Retraced my steps. More than once. Scoured the apartment. Behind the bed, under the cushions of the couch, in the pockets of all my coats.

On and on. But they’re gone. And with it, my interesting look (Now I have to wear my old glasses which make me look so much less interesting. DAMN).

Keys are a constant lost item. Where are my keys. Have you seen my keys. What did I do with my keys.

The panic, the anger, the frustration, the pain. WHERE ARE MY KEYS? Hepcat is always losing his keys. He refuses to use the handy key rack from the Clay Pot I put on the wall near the door (a big help to chronic key losers, mind you).

“FOUND THEM,” OSFO says every time she finds his keys (or mine). Those are my favorite two words. Happily they usually show up somewhere (although that isn’t always the case). And life can resume. The keys have been found.

We can carry on.

These thoughts were racing through my mind as we searched for Diaper Diva’s lost iPhone yesterday. Where or where can it be. It simply disappeared into thin air.

Until it was found, that is. (See Good Samaritan in Montauk post below for more details).

One thought on “WHY WE LOSE THINGS”

  1. Losing things is so heartbreaking. Especially if they have sentimental value. A few weeks after christmas, i was wearing my first piece of jewelery the boyfriend ever bought me— the most beautiful, perfect Laura Baxter necklace. I was so in love with it, it was the first thing anyone ever picked out for me that I absolutely 100% loved. After a day of coats and scarves on and off and on and off again, through the Elizabeth IKEA, the PATH, the Subway, lunch and dinner out… i realized it was no longer on me. Eight months later I still desperately call IKEA and the transit authority, hoping it’s turned up. And everytime I walk by the jewelery store next to Conneticuit Muffin or see a Laura Baxter piece, I still cry. I don’t think I’ll ever get over it.

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