I've lost some important things this year; a favorite jacket, prescription sunglasses, discipline for dieting, my temper, the elasticity in my thighs, ability to con myself, energy for cooking, friends who've up and died. This is not a good sign. I keep thinking they'll all show up again; I look under beds, pull out couches, paw through closets, wade through drawers; I call all the places I went with them, but no one claims they've seen them. Every Lost and Found is empty; I'm suspicious they were stolen; I keep trying to remember when I last saw them, where I, distracted, put them down; their locations play hide and seek with me; I'm sure they'll show up if I just keep on looking; I check the same places over and over again, convinced I've overlooked them; so far, I've had no luck; I'm not giving up though; they must be somewhere.
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