I’m a Loser

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It’s true. I’m a loser. I lose everything. If I calculated the time I have taken from my life searching for missing items, it would have to be at least year. I put down my cell phone and 10 minutes later, I can’t find it. The only time I ever use my landline is to call my lost iPhone. I hear the faint ringing in the distance and breathe a sigh of relief. At least I know it’s somewhere I can hear it- on top of my dresser, carelessly thrown into the mess of one of my many bags, underneath the blankets of my heavenly bed. Unfortunately, everything I lose does not come equipped with a sound device that can help me with my problem. Keys. They’re the worst. Every time I have to leave my house, I spend at least ten minutes searching for my keys. I’ve tried everything. Key hooks right by my front door, a little key box to keep an extra set safe and sound. Nothing works. I can’t count the times I have dumped the entire contents of my bag in a psychotic frenzy looking for my keys only to find them left carelessly on the kitchen table, on top of my night stand, anywhere they should be except for those damn hooks I bought to keep them safe and sound. I often daydream about a “clapper” device for my keys. Would somebody invent that already? My glasses. I’m sitting at my computer right now in a pair of crooked old glasses because I can’t find my good pair. Haven’t seen them for days. In fact, I just found these crooked old glasses. Imagine what I went through trying to find my spectacles with my blurred vision? I really wonder where those good glasses are. They’ll show up one day and I’ll lose them again.

My husband had a mantra that he recited to himself everyday before he left the house: Money, Keys, Watch, Wallet, Phone. It’s a good mantra, especially for losers like me. I don’t wear a watch, but if I did, I’m sure I would lose that too. I even purchased two of my favorite MAC lipsticks, just in case I lost one of them. I already did. This whole loser thing, it’s a terrible affliction, you know.

A couple of weeks ago, I was rushing around, trying to get myself and my daughter ready for a friend’s birthday party. I can’t function without at least one cup of coffee per day, and I was pressed for time, so I was carrying my mug around the apartment with me, trying to do this and that. We were just about ready to leave and I remembered the coffee. I needed just a few more gulps.

I couldn’t find it.

I walked back and forth across my apartment searching for my much needed fix when my daughter asked me what I was doing. I told her I was looking for my coffee. “You lost your coffee?” she asked. “Yes. Mommy lost her coffee.” Her four year old response?

“How do you lose a cup of coffee?”

Hello. My name is Suzy and I’m a loser.

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