Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most.

Today's post was going to be about something I'd been working on a few weeks ago while I was lounging on the couch at 2pm on a Tuesday. (Memories, misty water-colored memories...). Anyway I'm still working on it - it's a really cool list that I'll share soon - but right now I can't find it. So instead, I'll share idea #2 from the magic book. "Fess up - what do you fail at?"

I'm sure it will be part one of many posts on the topic.

First and foremost, I am notorious for putting something in a logical place, firmly believing I will know exactly where I put the thing when I look for it in a month because the place I put it was just that logical... and never being able to find it again. Case in point: really cool list. (No, it's not in the magic book. I looked. That might've even been too logical for me.)

I am also really good at not seeing things right in front of my face when I'm looking for them. When I was unpacking and setting up my desk, I ran across a folder of scrap paper that I wedged right between my monitor and speaker, figuring there was no way I would forget where I put that when it was right in front of me every day. No way! What a handy spot- reach up and there's scrap paper. A week later I rummaged through every single remaining box, drawer, file cabinet, etc looking for this folder of scrap paper with no luck. It took me about three days to to realize it was RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME.

Others...

... if I don't get something right away, and/or if I have to work really hard at something to feel like I'm any good at it, I give up. It started with clarinet in 5th grade and continued over the years with guitar, pottery, knitting, painting, calculus, Spanish. The list goes on. Which leads to...

... I don't have a lot of patience. For much of anything, really.

... I think I overuse the comma. I'd like some input on this one. I might be overthinking it. Or I might be overusing the comma.

And this isn't really about failing, but it is concerning. I am turning into my mother. My mother who grew up in the depression and still refuses to waste a speck of food. I haven't gotten to the point where I spent 10 minutes scraping the peanut butter jar down to its bare bones, but I do add a few tablespoons of water to the pasta jar to eke out any remaining sauce, and I have been putting things in ziplocks that probably do not need a second layer of protection against air and other elements, and last year I did reprimand one of my former staff for not closing a bag of crackers securely with the clip I'd provided (she just kinda balled up the top of the bag and left it there - the horror!).

But the day I turn into my father and do something like this...

... just go ahead and shoot me. And then GET OFF MY LAWN!