While I was sick last month, my life got all messy. I didn’t have the energy to do much other than get through the days, so when things got lost in the shuffle, I figured I’d find them when I felt better. Well, I am back to 100% health (thank God) and there were two major causalities: my vegetable peeler and my journal.

This weekend, I emptied the utensil drawer, and there, lodged between the cheese grater and the rolling pin (back in the black hole of the drawer) was the the vegetable peeler. How did I miss it the 10 other times I looked in there?

The journal loss was a little more nerve-wrecking than the veggie peeler. Somewhere in the world there is a spiral-bound notebook with unlined pages filled with my most private thoughts. It is just sitting patiently, waiting for any ol’ stranger to pick it up, read it, share with all his or her friends, post it online or send into Found magazine.

This weekend, I cleaned our apartment from floor to ceiling looking for the journal, but turned up nothing. While I wanted to hold out for the MIA soldier to return home, I couldn’t stand not having a journal to write in. So, I treated myself to a beautiful handmade journal that I am very grateful to have as a place to write myself out of bad moods and write out solutions to my problems.