Misplaced, Lost or Not?

Misplaced

I wonder how many hours I’ve used up looking for stuff. Especially in the past 8 months. See, we moved to our new house in August. Which as we all know, creates chaos and confusion. Plus we hadn’t moved in over 20 years. Even if the boxes are labeled, finding your stuff is still twice as difficult. You have to know where a particular box is, then find it among other boxes and hope the “thing” is in there.

Add to this scenario the fact that I found out I had cancer a few weeks after we moved and things like putting stuff where it belongs went to crap immediately. “Hey, Honey, where’s the such-n-such?” “Uhhhhh…. it might be in the spare bedroom in one of those boxes.” But whomever deposited that box in the house might not have even put it in that room .

I posted a reply to another blogger the other day regarding my DSLR camera and it’s bag with all the lenses. I realized that I couldn’t remember seeing it and couldn’t remember where I had put it during the move. Cue full-blown panic mode. OMG! Where could it be? I scour the entire house, knowing that it is an important item and I would’ve put it in a “safe place” so it wouldn’t get lost. I guess I’m really good at that. Was it misplaced? No. At least not in the first sense: “to put in the wrong place”. I specifically put it in a specific place. I just couldn’t remember where and it wasn’t in plain sight. In the second sense, most definitely: “to put in a place afterward forgotten; lose; mislay”. 

I’m well, frantically, going through the house looking for it, imagining all of the horrible scenarios that could have possibly happened. In the melee of the three of us loading our crap, the mover dudes loading the big stuff, anything could’ve happened  to my photography child. The horror that it could’ve gotten mixed in with the trash in some bizarre twist of fate is beyond my threshold of endurance. I try to force such silly thoughts out of my mind and concentrate on the search. It’s not a small thing, my camera bag; larger than a bread basket as the saying goes.

I finally find it, on the third pass of that room.  Hallelujah! I lay my hand on it just to make sure that it’s real. The sigh of relief is large. The weight of the panic & stress is lifted and my life is good again. Once I find it, I remember putting it there, in that super safe place. I leave it there because now where it’s at is burned into my memory.  I can’t say the same for my glasses, my keys, my…. oh good grief!