Things I’ve Put Somewhere “So I Won’t Lose Them” and Never Seen Again

I need to discuss a very specific location in my home.

You cannot see it.

You cannot access it.

I don’t know where it is.

But apparently I have been storing important belongings there for years.

I call it:

The Safe Place.

You know the one.

You’re holding something important and think:

I need to put this somewhere safe so I definitely know where it is later.

Brilliant.

Responsible.

Growth.

Then three days later:

Where the fuck did I put it?

And the worst part is I can remember the feeling of being responsible.

I remember standing there.

I remember thinking:

Ohhh, this is a GOOD spot.

Do I remember the spot?

Absolutely not.

Chargers

I know I own chargers.

I have purchased chargers.

I have physically witnessed chargers inside this home.

So explain to me why every single time my phone reaches 4 percent, suddenly I’m participating in a scavenger hunt.

Bedroom?

No.

Living room?

No.

Kitchen?

Why would it be in the kitchen?

Doesn’t matter. Check anyway.

Behind the couch?

Obviously there’s one behind the couch.

Does it work?

Of course not.

There is also always one mystery cable living peacefully in a drawer.

Nobody knows what it charges.

Nobody remembers purchasing it.

It may predate civilization.

Can we throw it away?

ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Because the second I do, some device I haven’t seen since 2017 will suddenly require that exact cable.

So we preserve the artifact.

For history.

Earrings Apparently Have Their Own Transportation System

I somehow own a ridiculous number of earrings while simultaneously having no complete pairs.

One hoop.

One tiny stud.

One sparkly one I genuinely don’t remember buying.

Where is her partner?

Where did she come from?

What happened here?

I’ll take earrings off beside my bed and think:

I’ll put these away tomorrow.

Tomorrow arrives.

One remains.

One has joined the underground resistance.

And eventually I’ll find it in a place that makes absolutely no sense.

Inside a purse I haven’t used in months.

Behind a candle.

Under furniture.

Once you find the missing one, naturally you have already lost the original one.

So the cycle continues.

I’m convinced there is a tiny earring exchange program happening while I sleep.

Important Documents Are Where This Gets Dangerous

This is the category where The Safe Place stops being cute.

I receive an important document.

Immediately I become the most responsible woman alive.

Do NOT leave this sitting around.

So I put it somewhere secure.

Really secure.

Exceptionally secure.

Secure enough that apparently not even I have clearance to retrieve it.

Then comes the day I need it.

Suddenly I’m opening drawers I haven’t opened since another presidential administration.

Folders.

Cabinets.

Boxes.

Old bags.

Random envelopes.

A drawer containing seventeen things that technically belong nowhere.

Now I’m finding stuff I didn’t even know was missing.

Oh wow.

There’s that lipstick.

Still no document.

Now I’m getting irritated because I KNOW I put it somewhere intelligent.

At some point the search stops being about the document and becomes personal.

I am going to defeat Past Alexus.

I will understand her reasoning.

I will reconstruct the scene.

Where would she think was “safe”?

And apparently the answer is:

Somewhere completely deranged.

Lip Products Return to Nature

I refuse to believe I have ever completely finished a tube of lip balm.

People claim this happens.

I need evidence.

I purchase them.

I use them four times.

Then they disappear back into the ecosystem.

Lipstick is even more emotionally manipulative.

Because it will stay visible for months when I don’t need it.

Then the exact day I’m trying to recreate a specific look:

Gone.

Witness protection.

Never existed.

I’ll search every makeup bag.

Nothing.

Eventually I buy another color that is approximately 0.0003 percent different.

Which means somewhere inside this home I probably own fourteen versions of the same pinky nude.

They are simply refusing to organize themselves.

Scissors Are Never Where Scissors Belong

Every home has a designated place for scissors.

Nobody has ever found scissors there.

You open the drawer.

Empty.

Fine.

Where did I last use them?

Package.

Bedroom.

Bathroom.

Somehow next to a candle?

WHY?

Eventually you find them sitting beside something you opened two weeks ago.

And immediately you think:

Why didn’t I just put them back?

Past Alexus was apparently busy.

She cannot be reached for comment.

Hair Ties Have a Similar Business Model

I can buy a package containing 40 hair ties.

Forty.

That should last a human being a reasonable amount of time.

Within six business days, I own two.

Both stretched to the circumference of a small planet.

Where did the other 38 go?

Then I move a piece of furniture and suddenly discover eleven.

So technically my home isn’t losing anything.

It’s redistributing inventory.

Same with bobby pins.

One day you have none.

Then you clean under the bed and apparently you’ve discovered a bobby pin burial ground.

And Then There’s the Sock Situation

Socks don’t even bother pretending anymore.

Two socks enter the washing machine together.

Matching pair.

Shared history.

Probably plans for the future.

One comes out.

No explanation.

No body.

No ransom note.

Just one lonely sock staring at me like:

We don’t talk about what happened in there.

Where do they GO?

There must be millions of missing socks.

Somewhere there is another dimension filled entirely with left socks, hair ties, lip balm, charging blocks and the earrings I’ve lost since 2013.

Honestly, I’d watch that documentary.

“I’ll Put This Here for Now”

This sentence has ruined lives.

I’ll be cleaning and encounter an object that doesn’t really have a home.

Instead of stopping to find it one, my brain goes:

I’ll put this here for now.

For now.

Sure.

That object will remain there until the property changes ownership.

Or I’ll move it somewhere else during the next cleaning session.

Then somewhere else.

Eventually it has traveled through seven rooms and still does not have an official residence.

At that point, the object basically lives nomadically.

The Worst Is When I Hide Something From Myself

Sometimes I’ll intentionally put something away because I don’t want clutter visible.

Company is coming.

Quick.

Everything must appear like I naturally live in a home where no objects exist.

So I grab the random little pile and put it inside a drawer, closet or cabinet.

Problem solved.

House beautiful.

Three months later I open that same place and discover an entire archaeological site.

OH MY GOD.

That’s where that went.

Now I have the strange experience of receiving my own belongings as gifts.

Thank you, Past Alexus.

Very thoughtful.

Terrible filing system.

I Can Remember Completely Useless Things, Though

This is what makes the whole thing offensive.

Can I remember where I put a document yesterday?

No.

Can I remember a weird thing somebody said to me seven years ago at approximately 4:13 in the afternoon?

Absolutely.

Crystal clear.

Would you like their tone of voice too?

My brain has apparently made some unusual executive decisions about storage priorities.

Important password?

Gone.

Random lyric from a song I haven’t heard in fifteen years?

Immediately available.

Location of my keys?

Questionable.

Embarrassing memory from middle school?

High-definition IMAX.

Thank you so much.

And Yet I Will Continue Creating Safe Places

This is the funniest part.

Nothing has changed.

Tomorrow I will pick up something important.

I will look around thoughtfully.

And I will say:

I’m going to put this somewhere safe so I remember.

NO.

WE HAVE DATA.

DO NOT TRUST HER.

But I know I will.

And maybe there’s something kind of delightful about eventually finding things again.

You open a random drawer and suddenly:

OH MY GOD.

THERE YOU ARE.

It’s like receiving a present from yourself.

A deeply irresponsible present.

But still.

So if anyone needs me, I’ll be looking for a charger, one gold hoop, a pair of scissors and a document I definitely need this week.

Don’t worry.

They’re somewhere safe.

I’m sure of it.

Alexus Rae
xoxo ♡