Another post for the Ann Dee Ellis 8-Minute Memoir writing challenge.
I don't usually lose things. Physical things at least. I'm pretty good at holding onto them. Occasionally I'll have to look for my keys because I can't remember which purse I dropped them into the night before, but for the most part, I can keep track of the physical world.
There are others things I lose though.
I lose patience. With myself, my husband, my friends, and my family. They've all felt the brunt of it at some point or another, I'm sure. I often lose patience with strangers who ask stupid questions. I lose patience with my students who think the classroom is their personal open mic night.
I lose myself. I'll disappear in thought for long stretches--usually only a few minutes, but sometimes hours.
I lose a story line. If a novel doesn't suck me in the way I want it to, I'll forget what was happening. I reread the same chapter in The Two Towers so many times I eventually just got embarrassed and set the book aside. For those wondering, it was in the middle of the battle at Helm's Deep. It was too complicated for me to follow. Or maybe too boring. Either way, I never finished that book.
I lose money. When we were living in Rexburg, I was giving plasma twice a week to help us live more comfortably. I walked home one day after putting the $30 I'd made that day at the plasma center into my pocket. When I went to pull it out that night and add it to our cash monies, I couldn't find it anywhere. I'm still not sure if I didn't actually get the bills into the inside of my pocket or if they wriggled their way out on the walk home. Either way, I hope whoever found it was excited and did something useful with it.
Very rarely, I lose my temper. I'm usually fairly relaxed and cool-headed, but every now and again something will happen that makes me see red and feel like I've completely lost control. It doesn't happen often, but when it does I usually spend more time trying to recoup the good faith I've lost than my own senses.