Tony, Tony, Look Around

Sharing a house with 4 people makes me nuts. Not because I don't love them and like them a whole lot--they're great. But when it comes to keeping the house under control, keeping the mess tamed down, it doesn't help to have 4 extra people helping me make a mess. Plus, while Maeve and Mike are pretty good at helping undo the mess, Sophia is, I believe, physically incapable of seeing mess (like some folks are color-blind, Sophia is mess-blind). And then there's Leo.

In a mess, things get lost. So I've been doing a lot of quick prayers to St. Anthony and trying to roll back my day in my brain to figure out when I was out of routine and set something down. This works like a charm most of the time--either Anthony or meditation brings things back to me. I lost my Daisy handbook for girl scouts, and tracked it back to the stack of junior girl scout information. No problem. But then the other day I lost my keys. You know, if I never found that Daisy handbook, it wouldn't have been a big deal. But keys are. I hunted throughout the house for a half hour until I finally found them. In the piano bench. The only reason I looked in there at all was because Leo had a small grouping of cars below the piano bench. That was my clue. Leo had hidden my keys.

And now I'm missing something almost as important: my thyroid medication. I have to go to two different pharmacies to get this job done these days, and one set, the easy set from Target, is safe in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. The dessicated thyroid from the compounding pharmacy, which I picked up on Tuesday, is missing. It's still in its bag, wherever it is.

Yesterday, I took it out of my purse right before I left to run errands with my mother. I put it either on the front bench or on the landing--either one would indicate "this goes upstairs."

The rest of the day happened.

I can't find it.

This morning was not so great, akshually. I take it on an empty stomach first thing in the morning. And it wasn't here. Not in the bathroom, not on the landing, not on the bench. Not in my purse, not on a train, not in the trash can, not on a plane. I will not find my thyroid pills, I will have to crawl in bed and sleep until...Not quite Seuss, but you get the idea. I'm tearing the effing house apart looking for this damned white paper bag and it's NOWHERE.

At least it's a Thursday; the dumspters don't get emptied until tomorrow morning. That's my last resort, of course. It has got to be in this house.

Tony, Tony, look around
Something's lost that must be found...