I’m Beginning to Think It’s Me

For reasons I don’t quite comprehend, my clothing are up and disappearing on me one by one.

First, it was a pair of grey pants. I loved those pants. Not enough to realize they were missing until I saw another pair just like them, but now that I remember them, I miss them a lot. I have checked the closet, the bookcase and the pile on the floor under the chair.  Nothing.

Before those pants were discovered missing, I lost a brand new still-has-the-tags-on-it shirt. It wasn’t particularly expensive or impressive, but I put it on the “not dirty but not exactly clean either I’ll get to it later” chair, and it is gone.  Poof. Like it never existed.

The last straw was this morning. All of the lycra had disintegrated out of my former lap suit (may it rest in peace), so I bought a new one. Nothing fancy, just a suit from Costco because I want an Ugly Suit but am, as of this writing, too expansive to fit into one.  The Speedo was to be my stop-gap. Go to throw it in the gym bag this morning and it is nowhere to be found.  Immediately I blame the DH, but he honestly hasn’t seen it.

I don’t know if there is some rave for clothing raging in an undisclosed location in my house, but I cannot for the life of me find my missing clothes. I can’t imagine anyone else wearing/taking them because 1. they wouldn’t fit anyone else and 2. the rest of the household are all male (especially this one for the bathing suit).

So now I will be forced to go through all my clothes: the entire bookcase (yes, I keep my clothes in a bookcase, think about it and it makes way more sense than a dresser), the closet, the children’s closet, and the dresser (for things I don’t like to bother folding). While this might be a boon for Goodwill, it means hours of toil for me.

Bugger.

At least the DH is home to help me cough, cough, cough.

 

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