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Karma Crapped On My Keys

I used to consider myself an organizational guru. (See my previous post on Boxes!) I like to have a place for everything and everything in its place. Of course, it seems like with each child, I get a little more lax in the way I do things. I’m certainly no neat freak any more; I had to get over that once The Girl (and all her toys) became mobile. Even still, I like things like caddies and cupholders, hooks and hampers, totes and trays … you get the point. But lately I’ve noticed that my structure is falling by the wayside. In my defense, we are in transition from Franklin to Little Rock right now; we’ll probably be moving out of corporate housing next week and into a rental until the TN house sells (yay, more moving…). [On a happier note, we got our first offer on the house today; on a not-so-great note, it wasn’t that great of an offer 🙁 ]. This is no time for excuses, though; I mean, “transition” begs for organization or insanity will ensue, right? Well…

I’ve lost my keys! When we were in Franklin, I grabbed my spare van keys to bring back with me “just in case”; good thing, since I can’t find my keys! I’ve no idea where they are! I’ve looked everywhere, well apparently everywhere except where they are! So I can’t check the mail; I don’t have a house key or an apartment key … how did this happen? You know, I probably left them in TN … it must be karma biting me in the butt for giving Bryan a hard time that I had to put his car keys in the bag for him so he wouldn’t forget them in TN!

Anyway, because I apparently like to kick myself when I’m down, I’m remembering the other day when I searched high and low for a piece of paper on which I’d written some very important information (i.e., room numbers for the classes I’m teaching this term). I looked everywhere, racking my brain about where I could have put the paper, trying to ignore the fact that I’d written such information on a torn corner of a scrap of paper knowing that this very thing would happen! I looked in every purse, bag, drawer, cabinet (even in the bathrooms!), under furniture, in my car…. By the time I finally found it (in the corner, behind the recliner, under the end table that the printer’s sitting on….hmph, a toddler must have had something to do with that!), I was so disgusted with myself for being so disorganized.

Oh and the warm and fuzzy memories don’t end there. A similar situation happened the last time Pepa visited. (Just great … witnesses). I’d been searching bags and purses, drawers and cabinets (you know where this is going, right?) for some pictures that I’d gotten from my nephew the last time I visited my family. When I finally found them (in the fabric colored box where I keep jewelry), I remembered exactly why I put them there — so I wouldn’t lose them! Laughing at myself but pleased to have found the pictures, I told Pepa of my success. “You know,” he said, “Mom used to hide things from herself so she wouldn’t lose them.” He smiled, “Of course, she was 80.”

Thanks, Pepa, I needed that. Now I’ll always know that it’s either karma or old age or both causing me to not know where I’m going, be able to get there, or remember where I put myself so I won’t get lost. Wait…what was I talking about?

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