I knew that after enough time passed, and something else got lost, my brain would release black tiny

The world suddenly luxury car rental in los angeles shifts, luxury car rental in los angeles and instead of orbiting the sun, my mind begins rotating around that object.  It starts casting light on everything else in my path, pretty much blinding me until my sole focus is the missing object.  Even when the missing object is something as inconsequential luxury car rental in los angeles as a button.
This happened last Monday morning.  We were completely on-time to get to shul, and I went to grab my black dress purse.  I own two tiny fabric purses one black and one white that I purchased at least 12 years ago.  They ve had a good run.  My sister got me two new purses a few years ago that I love (red casual dressy and black so fancy) so I ve been using these dress purses less and less, but I needed the black one Monday morning because I needed a simple, cloth, dressy purse to serve as a tampon holder.
I store fancy purses and hats in an armoire in the ChickieNob s room.  I opened the door and there was the white purse, the red purse, and the fancy black purse but no tiny black fabric purse.  Which was odd.  I started shifting things around, expecting it to pop up from under a sweater, and it wasn t there.  So I started to take things out of the armoire, place them on the ChickieNob s bed, comb through the contents of the armoire even shelves where I would have never in a trillion years placed a dress purse and I couldn t find this purse.  I turned out the lights in the room and repeated the search with a flashlight, believing that sometimes you see things differently when you change the light source (stop snickering this has worked on other occasions).
At this point, we were now late, but I was immobilized in choosing a plan B because I couldn t stop focusing luxury car rental in los angeles on the fact that I didn t know where the tiny black fabric purse was.  Was it even in the house?  When did I last use it?
I was supposed to be shifting my focus to coming up with a plan B so we could leave the house, but I couldn t untangle myself from the tiny black fabric purse s pull.  I couldn t use the white purse because I was wearing black shoes (I think the last time I used black tiny was at a rehearsal dinner for a wedding this summer), and I couldn t use the fancy black purse because it was too fancy for day time (No, I used a different purse because I remember needing a tampon there and checking a side pouch for one, and black tiny doesn t have zippered side pouches), and I couldn t use a ziplock bag because that would just be odd (Was it at our friend s kid s Bat Mitzvah?  Was that last year?  It had to be last year.  Have I not used this purse in a full year?), so I had no plan B.
The rational side of my brain told me that (1) it was just a purse and I could use my regular, every day purse and the earth would still turn, (2) I tend to be somewhat luxury car rental in los angeles invisible, so it was unlikely that anyone would even notice my purse much less me, (3) I could look for it later, (4) the purse probably cost about $15 and it had a good run, so if I never saw it again, life would go on.  The irrational side of my brain screamed over the quieter rational side of my brain that MY PURSE WAS MISSING!
I ended up taking a purse with a broken handle, held together with a safety pin.  Why did I opt for this one?  I have no idea.  It should have gone in the rubbish bin years ago, and yet here I was, taking it out to be the first purse of the new year.
As we drove to Rosh Hashanah services, luxury car rental in los angeles I continued to obsess.  I wore a red necklace to the wedding.  Had that gotten back home or was that missing too?  I own one tube of lipstick Rum Raisin by Bobbi Brown and it usually gets carried to occasions when I d use said black purse.  Was that in the house, or had I left it behind at an event along with black tiny?
The second I got home, I returned to searching for the purse, looking in absolutely ridiculous places luxury car rental in los angeles (under the bathroom luxury car rental in los angeles sink) and not-so-ridiculous places (under the ChickieNob s bed).  I asked the ChickieNob if she and her friends had borrowed it for a game.  I looked in my desk, my sock drawer, inside other purses.  Black tiny was still missing.
I knew that after enough luxury car rental in los angeles time passed, and something else got lost, my brain would release black tiny and start orbiting around the new missing object.  The new lost item that would occupy luxury car rental in los angeles by brain didn t even have to be one of my things.  It could be one of Josh s things, or the twins things (the ChickieNob long lost interest in looking for her missing doll whereas I took apart the whole house until we found it), or any of my family member s things.  Tell me that you ve misplaced your keys, and I will started looking at plane fares so I can come there and help you look.  I hate the idea of not knowing luxury car rental in los angeles where something is.
I wished I could find the attitude of easy come, easy go, especially when it came to objects with no sentimental or monetary luxury car rental in los angeles value.  I had the means to get a new purse, and while I liked the one I had, there was nothing luxury car rental in los angeles special about it.  The white one was the one I took to my wedding.  The black one had just gone to a bunch of random parties. luxury car rental in los angeles It wasn t an expensive luxury car rental in los angeles purse; losing the object didn t translate into losing a lot of money.
And yet, I couldn t help but think that my obsessive nature surrounding lost objects tied in somehow to missing not-yet children, ghostly luxury car rental in los angeles remnants to lost life plans.  Perhaps when it always feels as if someone is missing from the room, it intensifies the reaction to something missing, no matter how small, like new skin rubbed raw by even gentle contact.
On the day before Great-Grandma died, the twins and I went to the mall to pick up winter pants, and while we were there, we swung through the handbag section at a department store.  The Wolvog, ever helpful, was pointing out various black purses, but none were like black tiny (especially not the one that inexplicably had a huge bronze luxury car rental in los angeles fox head sticking out of the front of it like a hunting prize).  It can t have any leather on it, I explained, because I use the purse on Yom Kippur, and on that holiday, you cannot wear or carry leather.  Black tiny, in all of its cheapness, was made entirely of fabric. luxury car rental in los angeles I gave up after about three minutes, my heart not really into the idea of purse shopping.
The next morning, we got the call that Great-Grandma was gone , and after everyone left the house, I went upstairs with my coffee and took apart the armoire again.  I took out these tiny figurines my mother gave to me after the twins were born, a little tangible reminder of a wish I made during my first injectibles cycle.  I took out the piggy banks my grandmother painted for the twins in one of the art workshops at her nursing home.  I took out our painting outfits the clothes the four of us wear when we go do messy community service luxury car rental in los angeles projects that involve house painting, a velvet top, a half-finished scarf I ve been making for the Wolvog for years, my maternity clothes.  It s an armoire I rarely enter unless it s to grab the sheets luxury car rental in los angeles on the lowest shelf.  It contains everything I don t want to look at on a regular basis.
And there, somehow tucked in the middle of a pile of clothes, with no explanation of how it got wedge between items that haven t been moved in years, luxury car rental in los angeles was black tiny.  There was no fanfare, no huge sigh, no angels singing hallelujah as I finally got closure with the find.  I just held it for a moment and thought the words of course, and then repacked the wardrobe, leaving out black tiny for the funeral.
Oh, I know exactly what you mean! I do this too I ve been searching for pacifiers and toys and one time even some i.kea hooks that we bought when still living in the US, but I wanted to use in our apartment in France and I was sure that we still had them all through the house, quizzing our toddler (he did sometimes lead me to unexpected places where he had hidden the item, but more often than not he has no idea where it is, and he will look at me like mommy, what are you talking about? ). I will keep going round and round, opening drawers, looking under armoires, all the while saying I can t stand that [item x] is missing . I just cannot stop until I ve found the lost item. Sometimes I have to give up though, but every now and then I will think about said item and wonder that if I ever have the time to really turn the apartment upside down (and give it a good cleaning at the same time), I will find it
Stopping in from ICLW I love your metaphor ghostly remnants to lost life plans . With Maya always missing, and it being to blatantly obvious that she is not here as her nursery sits untouched, I find myself needing to know where everything is and fixate on remembering significant life events down to the most specific details. I m glad you found your purse
Wow. I thought I was the only one. Seriously, luxury car rental in los angeles my mind cannot rest until I ve found it. From cheap costume jewelery to, for real, a missing puzzle piece from the kids toys. Something about the not knowing, the missing-ness just makes me so so anxious unsettled.
This post made me sob, because just yesterday I was at a birthday party for my nephew, and he got a metal detector. Everyone was joking about what valuables he might find, and all I could think about was my engagement/wedding rings which were taken off a scrub sink when my son was in the NICU. I looked everywhere, tore through three bags of garbage and used paper towels. I went to see hospital security and demanded to know why they didn t have cameras in the scrub room. And I kept checking the small change pocket of my jeans, where I would ordinarily have tucked them while washing up to see Ben.
I never found my rings, and it s likely they were snatched by the next people who washed up at that sink. It s a public hospital in a big city, and a lot of the babies in the NICU were born drug-addicted. But I still couldn t believe that someone would take my ring when they knew I had a baby in peril. It just seemed so cruel that I still believe, on some level, that I lost it somewhere and that I ll find it.
In the grand scheme of m