No. I’m not going on a Ben Folds Five bender, even though that song DOES kick ass. I’m literally wondering if anyone has seen my black t-shirt. You know, the one that’s “dressier” and really cute with the great scoop neck and works so well with skirts? Yeah, that one. Because it’s lost. And I don’t lose clothing. I really don’t. I actually don’t lose anything.

I know people that do. I’m always hearing stories about people losing stuff, and I just find it incredibly hard to comprehend. I don’t leave things on vacation. I don’t leave things at other people’s houses. I don’t have a messy car filled with bills that should have been mailed and DVD’s that should have been returned. I DO, however, put things like eggs and milk in the pantry, but that’s due to a mental defect and is discovered before I actually think I’ve lost those items. But that? Another story entirely. And not grist for a post. Well, not today, anyway.

So it is bothering the ever-livin’ hell outta me that I can’t find that shirt. It’s simply nowhere to be found. And, of course, it’s my favorite among the dozen black t-shirts I own. Which begs the question, why do I continue to buy them? But that’s not up for discussion. Besides, the guys that stop by here will get all “oh you’re getting all girly girl and talking about clothes and shoes and stuff and I’m gonna have to go find a blog about changing the oil or rebuilding a transmission or scratching my … just to get the bad taste out of my mouth” — and we can’t have that.

So, has anyone seen it? Because, y’all.

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