You Win Some, You Lose Some

I have a problem. I lose important things. Now, wait, I MISPLACE important things. In the past 12 months I have misplaced - volleyball, curling shoes, world map, SS card, birth certificate, wallet, checks, my favorite skirt, a mitten, favorite beret and a scarf. In the same period of time I have RE-found all that is highlighted above. Not much hunh? This could mean one or two things, either I need to stop moving or I need a personal assistant to keep track of my stuff and perhaps my thoughts.

The killer part of this - people consider me organized. Really? Organized?! Yes, I like stuff neat and tidy. And yes, I tend to lose my valuable things while en route but wouldn't an organized person put that somewhere that is not only note-worthy but also safe? I don't know. It just baffles me sometimes that I get labeled that, especially after I misplace an important document.

But perhaps I AM organized and I DIDN'T actually misplace the article. Perhaps it's just my crappy memory. The reason why I even mention this stems off of a conversation I had with my family over Easter.

Mom, "Yeah, I need to cut down on the sweets."
Me, "Well, you know what I do? I hide my Skittles from my self so I don't eat too many."
Dad, "THAT'S ridiculous. You can't HIDE something from yourself. You're the one who put it there... you know where it is!"
Me, "Trust me, it's hiding. One time it took me two weeks to find a bag."
Mom, "Yeah, I'm amazed what I have accidentally hidden from myself."
Dad, "You're both crazy. I remember EVERYTHING I place somewhere."
(Note: Dad has MS and his memory stinks ... and that can be said true PRIOR to the crappy disease. Regardless, Mom and I know better and just roll our eyes at Dad.)
K walks in.
K, "What are you talking about?"
Dad explains argument.
K, being sensible and clueless as to what is at stake here quips, "Why do you even need Skittles?"

End of story.

Point here. I blame my family for the reason why I lost my own record of birth.