A Three-Ring Binder

Have you seen my blue folder? I apologize if I already asked you that, but ever since I lost a blue plastic folder that just contained ‘my life,’ I haven’t been able to think about anything else. My daughter was the last person to see it on top of the dashboard in my mom van. I have concluded after much investigation and contemplation that either two things happened: (1) I placed it somewhere special, so special I can’t remember where or (2) It flew off the dashboard and out the window. Sadly, I am starting to think number 2 is the only choice, since my brain doesn’t seem to be offering up any faraway memories of special places.

My problem now is that I have descended into a losing cycle—I can’t stop losing things. My sunglasses, car keys, immunization card, favorite book…the list goes on. The other night, I ripped my files apart looking for one piece of paper that I was sure I had lost. After finding it, I fell into a deep slumber where I dreamt that I lost my children. “I’m ready to be locked-up,” I told the prison warden as I turned myself in.  “And before I’d go, I’d like to thank my blue folder…”

The next morning, my children woke me up with wet kisses.  I was relieved that my insanity had only been a nightmare. Then I saw the reality of my office. Piles of papers and files were strewn all over the floor.  My organizational system of three file cabinets and twenty-five plastic storage containers had failed me. Not only was I disorganized, but chaos had finally triumphed. The toys were multiplying at night as were the piles of mail. The final sign of a chaotic victory was when a bottle of soda opened in my purse, destroying its contents and the lining of my purse.
 
I was on the floor in a puddle of self-loathing when my girlfriend dropped off a stack of three ring binders from her office. The clouds parted, the music swelled as I saw a light at the end of my mess. Binders were going to bring my life back together, one notebook at a time. And so it began, I weeded through the mess, placing any and all papers into my new binder system.

My momentum stopped when though when I hit the kids’ room—three hole punching toys was not possible.

“I’m throwing them all away,” I announced.

My kids panicked and headed for their favorite toy. “Not baby Claire or her stroller,” my youngest cried.

I continued on my rampage through the living room, garbage bag in hand. My husband’s tennis shoes lay before me in their usual spot, the middle of the floor. I giggled with pleasure over the thought of popping those suckers in the trash.

My oldest daughter stopped me in the midst of my deviant daydream.  “You’re not going to throw our toys away are you, Mommy?”  
“No, we are going to have a garage sale and sell them,” I announced, “And give the money to charity.” I would trade all the toys for a piece of paper, which of course, I would file in the binder labeled ‘Donations.’

While looking for my blue folder yesterday, I found my husband’s pair of vintage sunglasses that he lost over a year ago. I am hoping that with my new binder system, the spared tennis shoes and a small act of charity, my blue ‘life’ will find its way home.

Comments

[Uberchik]

Absolutely screaming hilarious!!!

I spent Saturday on the warpath for a video Boyfriend shot at the Ringling Circus of me dancing with tigers.

My safeplace is the inside of a shoe.

Needless to say, I was in my closet for a long time and still came up empty handed.

[A. Logan]

Christine, you might have to move to find your folder...I "lost" a very beloved and important book about three months ago. I asked (or accused, they might argue) everyone who'd been within a mile of my house if they'd "accidentally picked up" my book. I just found it yesterday packing books up for my move -- it was on a book shelf I looked on at least four times. Somehow it looked different than I recalled. Have you considered that your blue folder could be inside something else that is disguising it? Or turned spine-in on a shelf? Hope you find it soon...or you'll just have to move!