Sometimes you start off the year with all these great things – New Year’s resolutions, goals and all that.

And sometimes everything you own works to thwart your goals.

Now, I inherited the losing things gene from my dad, who has woken up all his children on multiple occasions to help him find his keys/boots/jacket/online Dominoes password during our growing up years.

If there is an Island of Misfit Toys for lost stuff, probably half of the thing I own are currently there. I have this image in my mind of my stuff being all Toy-Story-Toys-When-Andy-Walks-In – you know, running around, causing mayhem and then flopping and hiding and playing inanimate whenever they think I’m coming.

And right now, the missing thing is of course – my keys.

So, I’ve lost them on many, many occasions, only to find them behind the microwave, in one of my shoes, or, my favorite, in my purse after I’ve looked there for the 15th time without success.

But they’ve never been missing for so long. This entire week, I’ve been keyless. And, all day today, I was phoneless, because of course, my phone decided it would rather spend the day chilling and camping out in Ellen’s car than being at my desk and giving me updates on the lives of James Fraschilla and Bryce Hager when I need a brain break.

So, what’s a girl to do? This is what comes of cleaning and organizing, you see. You don’t just purge yourself out of your possessions – you purge yourself out of any sense of independence or mobility, not even to speak of the ability to lock and unlock the door to your own home. Or check your mail (actually, I don’t like checking the mail, so I’ll let Will keep sorting out all those pieces of junk valuable marketing and promotional materials. 

Kidding, obviously – and I have more to say on the topic of organization in the near future. But, for now, any ideas on where I can find ALL MY STUFF? Who knows what might go missing next? My mind probably. Sheesh.