I’ve reached a very comfortable, confident phase of life now that I’m in my thirtieth year of life. It’s really been an incredible year of growth for me. But I feel as though, despite all of the personal gains, I’m developing a bit of a reputation. I’ve been living in a new city for the last year, so impressions are a big deal in this sensitive, rapport-building season of my life. I mean, I already let it slip that I shop at Goodwill and get haircuts with Great Clips coupons…

I suffer from Scatteredcrapstitis. It’s a condition that causes me to leave one piece of personal belongings [/c•rap] behind at virtually every place we go. Actually, many of you reading this right now have been personally affected by my diagnosis and are currently laughing as the object I left behind is now popping up in your memory. And to the sweet friend whose husband put MULTIPLE pieces of said personal belongings into a gallon Ziplock bag and wrote our last name on it for the next time you saw us— thank you.

I consider myself a very “life” organized person. I have a set grocery day, I meal plan, I arrange activities throughout the week for the kids, I have meals on the tables at regular times during the day, etc. But as it relates to “things”, Scatterdcrapstitis has hit me like a ton of tissue boxes stacked precariously behind a closed closet door. It doesn’t matter how diligently I search my friends’ homes, the church nursery, or my surroundings at a restaurant before leaving, if it doesn’t have a homing beacon on it, crap gets scattered. Sometimes it’s a Power Ranger or Storm Trooper figure or a decommissioned cell phone that’s become a precious toy. Occasionally my purse. Cell phone chargers. And almost always a hair bow discarded by my toddler in a random room of a friend’s house. One time I actually looked through a cabinet in the church nursery looking for something else and came across something of my daughter’s in the lost and found that I didn’t even know was missing. So I mean, that was a stroke of luck.

I joked with my friend about how she needed to get a lost and found at her house because I leave stuff there so often. She laughed and said, “Yah, I should just get a box and write ‘Katie’ on it.” So I mean, it’s a reputation I’m unsure of how to reverse. I suppose the opposite — if I were really intent on reversing my reputation — would be to take something of theirs with me. Hmmmmm….

Anyways, I digress.

I will anxiously anticipate the opportunity I may have to return your crap if you too are self-diagnosed with Scattercrapstitis.