Biggest Loser

I have a talent of sorts, if you want to call it that. My talent is that I lose things easily. My friends and family could rightly call me the "biggest loser" because I do this so often.

I waste so much time looking for "that object" that I just saw yesterday and need so badly today in order to continue with my project. It is so aggravating to me. I used to be able to call upon the children, describe the missing object and instantly there were 6 extra pairs of eyes on the lookout. Usually, among these sweet and alert children would be one who just saw it and direct me toward the thing I was missing. Sometimes, it turned out, someone had borrowed it and forgot to put it back where I had originally placed it. Sometimes not and I would realize that is where I had placed it. But now I have no one to blame or call on but myself. Sweet Sailor is my only other alert "eyes", and sometimes he can direct me to the lost thing, but many times he is at work and I have to take up the hunt on my own.

The solution is simple in theory:
My father-in-law used to say "a place for everything and everything in its place." I have always admired this virtue, but have never quite been able to put it into practice in my life.

One key is to relieve myself of unnecessary extra things. I watch as people move from an old house into a new, they go through their stuff and throw. They would rather throw than pack it and move it. It is a good cleansing practice, but my problem is I am too comfortable. I have lived in this house for 22 years and have not had to sort and throw.

I am realizing at this stage in life that I own too many things. I look around and think to myself, "Self, if you died, your poor survivors would have such a terrible time cleaning out your house. There is just too much d**m junk here."

Sorry, I don't usually swear, but the stupid stuff I own and worked all these years to acquire is just that: Stupid stuff. And I wasted good money and time acquiring it, sorting it, saving it, dusting it and eventually sorting through it looking for something else I know I have.

For example: I own at least 14 pairs of scissors, maybe more, mainly because sometime in my history I have lost a pair and I purchase another, or I forgot it at home and am on a trip and desperately need one for my latest stitching project. The reason I am aware of the scissors number is because I had the opportunity of getting them sharpened for $1.00 each. I gathered as many as I could find and brought in around 7 pair. While those scissors were in the shop getting sharpened, I needed scissors, so I began to search the house, and the very next week brought in 7 more pair.
Don't even get me started on pens. I am a PEN JUNKIE. I am sure would be embarrassed if we just got a box and placed every single writing instrument into it that resides in this house. Probably most have dried up and should be tossed.

::blushes with embarrassment::

But that is a different post.

Back to losing stuff:

In the past few weeks, I have wasted time on several occasions looking for something. I think when my sister was here once, within a 24-hour period she witnessed two or three different occasions of me looking for the most recent missing thing.

Last night I lost the stylus to my Palm Pilot. Please don't ask how I lost it, I have no idea, it just was missing when I went to use it.

I couldn't go to bed until I found the extra two I had purchased. I had just had them the day before, held them in my hand and in trying to put into practice the Place for Everything Principle, thought to myself, "where would be a good place to store these extra stylusi?" (is that the plural of stylus?) I had three* because in order to replace the one that had broken had to purchase a package of three. I thought I had put them in a safe place, but it was too safe.

*I am justifying myself for having two too many in the first place

I searched the house, even though it was 1:30 in the morning. I probably wouldn't even need to read anything on my Palm in order to go to sleep I was so tired. I wondered around the house, dumping out my purse, my church bag, and sorting through and cleaning other things looking for the old one and for the two new ones I had just put away in a nice "safe place."

It is at this point that I began to pray. Yes, I use prayer to help me recover what I carelessly lost. I am sure the poor Lord is just shaking his head at me, saying, "Dear Annie, please get more organized so I can put my attention toward other more important things, like flood victims, diseases, and other things."
But in my heart, I know that He knows all things, and he is pretty sweet to answer most of my prayers almost instantly.

The point to all this is I am very talented at losing things. But the one thing I can't seem to lose is weight. Why is that? I hear about someone who has lost weight, and it almost seems like I magically find it. Not that I hurry around and eat a dozen donuts or anything stupid like that, I just notice the scale has jumped upwards.

It goes like this: You lose 5 pounds, I hear about it, and I find it and add it to my collection.

And yes, I have even approached the Lord on this one, but there is always some sort of clause in my petitions like, "I want to lose this weight in a healthy way, not get pancreatic cancer or something dangerous." But He must think that this time I am on my own. After all I haven't lost anything that He needs to help me find.

::heaves a big sigh::

And now, with this latest procrastination distraction just completed, I will get out and take that walk I have been dreading. Wish me luck and remember me in your prayers. I need all the help I can get to continue this exercise quest. I am hating it.

~a

Really, I do count my blessings that I have legs to walk with, I have a healthy heart, no diabetes, no disease that I know of, fairly good feet and knees, although they give me lots of sass, a sweet husband who supports and loves me.