Forgotten

I have been quite productive today. By productive, I mean that I have spent hours looking for my cell phone, my keys, and now my credit card. I've found two of the three, so, at this point, I'm counting that as a win.

I'm mentally and physically exhausted. I hate to make it sound like this tile floor is the worst thing that has ever happened to me, but right now that's how it feels. My house is a disaster. I'm the first to admit that I'm not always neat and organized, but right now the chest from my entry way and the entire contents of my hall closet are dumped in my living room. Tools are scattered about my kitchen counters. And my refrigerator is in my dining room.

Because so many things seem to be randomly scattered about, I think I've subconsciously started doing that with everything else. It's not uncommon for me to misplace my phone for a little bit. Maybe I leave it in the car instead of throw it in my purse before getting out. Today I spent over an hour looking for it. I could hear it buzzing (it was on vibrate) but I couldn't, for the life of me, find it. I finally found it in the bathroom off of my bedroom (it's hardly a "masterbath" as there is only one sink and no whirlpool tub, only a shower stall). I'm, quite simply, not the kind of person who is going to chat away on my phone while sitting on the toilet, so how or why I found it in my bathroom is beyond me.

At this point I continued thin-setting the tiles until I ran out of thin set. I hadn't been to Home Depot since yesterday, so it was about time for me to swing in anyway. I should have been able to grab my keys and head out. They're always hanging on the hook. Except that they weren't. The tiles in front of the door to the garage, the one we usually use, were still wet, so when I had come home from picking Max up from school we had come in through the front door. The last time I got out of my car and entered through the front door was, well, never. Since my normal routine was off, my keys hadn't ended up in their normal place. Again, I searched my house, which in the state that's currently in is easier said then done. I checked the bathroom first this time. They weren't there. I scoured the kitchen counter and looked under the furniture in the family room. I remembered that I had made lunch after coming home, so I checked the fridge. I checked the laundry room. I checked and re-checked every place I could think of. And then Lily pooped her pants and while I was changing her, I remembered that when I had come home before I had changed her on the couch. Bingo.

An hour after I had intended to leave we were off to Home Depot. Grabbed more thin-set and checked out carpet (which is my next project...not doing that one myself, though). At the check out I reach in my purse for my credit card. You guessed it. I had them hold my stuff while the kids and I went back out to the car to look. Not there. Humiliated I went back in (thought about just leaving) and explained that I couldn't find my card, but asked that they keep my stuff so my husband could come in later to buy it.

I'd run out of steam by this point. I checked my purse again and looked around the house. For the third time today. Still didn't find it, though. We canceled it and a new one is on its way. I'm sure it will turn up. Probably in a strange place, like a shoe or the backyard.

I no longer really care much what my kitchen floor looks like (I'm not going to lie, it's going to be so pretty when it's finally done!), I just want my life back to normal. I want my brain back. I want my memory to work again. There was something else, but I forgot what I was going to say.