Where would you be?

I feel like I am losing my mind. But really, I'm just losing my stuff. I've tried the prayer to St. Anthony:

Tony, Tony look around.
Something's lost and can't be found.
Please help me find...

Either St. Anthony is sleeping on the job or he's trying to teach me a lesson about taking care of my things. I have cleaned out more than one closet with no luck. So now I'm here enlisting your help (and hoping that at least one person who reads my blog is psychic).

Where would you be if you were...

• one black El Naturalista clog with cute swirly white stitching 
• one silver Dr. Scholl flat 
• my favorite pair of Vera Wang jammies (from Kohl's) that my husband bought me for Christmas last year
• the security card that lets me into my office building (don't worry boss, it's been gone a while)
• a cute little vintage-looking Santa pin that I swear was on the counter next to the refrigerator
• 3 green mini bungee cords that are used to hang stockings with care
• a red cardigan sweater that will go perfectly with my "Believe" bling holiday shirt
• the "bit" part of my Fitbit Flex that somehow got separated from the charge

I'm serious, give me some ideas where these things might be. What is the strangest place you've ever found something you've lost? 

It felt more like St. Patrick's Day

Ahhh, Valentine's Day. The day when mischievous leprechauns wreak havoc on your life. At least that's what it was here.

The day started out perfectly fine. I got the boys up, fed and dressed in new red shirts -- Super Bowl XLVI for Charlie and Angry Birds for Robbie. I sent them on their way with Mike and sat down to write the requisite Valentine's Day blog post.

Post written, Annie got up. We argued about whether she would go to school today. She threw up last night, but I was pretty sure it was something she'd eaten. No fever. Felt fine before dinner, not so fine after. (I did not cook it.) She wanted to stay home. I said she had to go. She groused, but got dressed.

The carpool kid arrived. The girls got in the car and that's when the day came to screeching halt.

I could not find my keys. Anywhere.

They were not on the kitchen counter. Not in the drawer by the front door. Not in the front door. Not in my purse. Not in my coat pocket. After 15 minutes of hunting, I called the girls back inside and called the other carpool mom to ask her to take the girls to school. Then I sent a message to my office saying I'd be working from home until I found the keys.

I kept searching. Not on my dresser. Not in the pants I wore out to eat last night. Not under the couch cushions. Not under the couch. Not in my work bag. Not in the trunk.

I called Mike, thinking maybe they fell out of my coat in his car. No luck.

I prayed to St. Anthony -- "Tony, Tony, look around, something's lost and can't be found."

I sounded the "please pray I find my keys" alert on Facebook and Twitter.  One friend said she felt like St. Anthony was telling her I should look by the mailbox. I put my shoes on and went digging in the snow around the mailbox. I got cold hands but no keys.

They had to be somewhere. Maybe one of the boys had them? So I called the school and had the boys check their backpacks. Nada.

There was work to be done, so I set up my laptop on the kitchen table and got down to business. The rest of the morning went like this:

Type, type, type. Work, work, work. Search, search, search. Repeat.

I looked in the pantry, in the fridge, under all the bathroom sinks, in the basement. I looked under every cushion in the house. I went back out to the car, searched my coat, purse and trunk again to no avail.

I honestly began to believe that some leprechaun or gremlin had taken my keys. Ok, I also thought that they were probably in Mike's car and he just didn't look closely enough.

Then around noon, the real fun started. I got a call from the nurse at Annie's school. She'd thrown up at school and could I come get her. Oh, and Annie had mentioned to the nurse that she had been throwing up last night. Did I know that? (Insert guilty emoticon here.)

Well crap. I updated the missing key drama on Facebook and called Mike, who was unable to leave work for a while because of something he was working on. Thank God for Facebook and other people who check it on their smartphones like I do because my new BFF Kate, who I know from the Delta Gamma days in college, had responded that she was downtown and could pick Annie up for me. Praise Jesus (and Kate)!

Once I alerted the school that Kate would be picking up Annie (nevermind that Annie had never met her before), I called the Toyota dealer to see about having some new keys made. We'd have to go into the dealership after Mike got home to show proof of ownership and get the keys. I would deal with replacing my office keys tomorrow.

The latest crisis averted (well, besides not having a clue where my friggin' keys were), I sat down to work again. Somewhere around 3pm, I got a massive headache. After about 30 minutes of trying to ignore it, I decided to lay down. As I closed my eyes, I said a little prayer that I would have a dream that would show me where the keys were.

Two hours later, I woke up without the benefit of a dream. Mike was on his way to pick up the boys and I decided to renew my search. With a more clear head, I started in the car again. Nope. Looked in my coat. Nothing. Picked up my purse and searched the outside front pocket, the main inside compartment, the inside zippered pocket. Big fat zero.

Frustrated, I threw the purse down and it landed back side up. Hmmm...there is a zippered pocket on the back. A zippered pocket I don't think I'd checked before.

Yup. You know it. Those keys were there. Annie had searched the purse once. I had looked at least three times.

I don't think the keys were in my purse the whole time. I think someone took them, hid them all day, and then slipped them into that pocket while I was sleeping.

It was a leprechaun. I just know it.

I know it was just here...

If I were to choose one word to describe my life right now, it would be "lost." Not in a wandering, soul-searching way (ok, maybe a little bit of that), but in a literal way.

This is a list of items that are currently lost:

1. My glasses
2. My new contact lenses
   
3. Camera
4. Note cards and directions for Charlie's timeline project
5. The receipt for a Christmas gift I bought and now want to return.

I've sent up numerous prayers to St. Anthony, the patron saint of lost things, to no avail. I think Tony is sending me a message -- "Get your act together, lady!"

I know the glasses and boxes of contact lenses are here somewhere. I remember seeing them in the kitchen on that black hole which is known as the "junk counter," which is conveniently located above the "junk drawer." Although my junk drawer is just a facade since the front came off the drawer about three years ago, at which time I removed the drawer and used duct tape to tape the drawer front back in place. Guess it's true, that duct tape can fix anything!

But now I've lost the direction of this post. So, recalculating...

I'm limping along with some old contact lenses and a pair of mangled glasses I've had for about five years. It's a great look, really. I'd post a picture of me wearing them, but wait...that's right, I've lost the camera, too. We had it at Halloween and maybe even later. But now it's disappeared into thin air. That's a must-find object, especially before the holidays.

Really, I know everything has to be somewhere in this house. Yet, I've been through drawers, cabinets, and laundry baskets that double as filing systems with no luck.

And let me tell you that if some of these things don't show up soon, the next thing that will be lost will be my mind.

Thanks Tony!

A few days ago, I borrowed an electronic key to the community pool from our next door neighbors. Within 20 minutes of having the key in my hand, I lost it somewhere in my house.

I searched for 30 minutes before I had to leave for work. No key.

I asked Annie to look for it. No luck.

I asked the babysitter to look for it. No help.

So, it was time to get serious and call on St. Anthony, the Catholic patron saint of lost things. When we pray to St. Anthony -- or any saint for that matter -- it's not worshipping that person or putting them before God. Rather, it's like asking a friend to pray for you.

"Tony, Tony look around. Something's lost and can't be found. Please help me find the missing pool key," I said as I left work for the day and headed home.

Then I really didn't even think about it until I arrived home. I walked thru the door and into the seldom-used living room. Three steps into the room, I looked down and there, sticking out from under the ottoman, was the missing pool key!

St. Anthony to the rescue again!