I lost my book...

A couple weeks ago I picked up a copy of Don Miller's new book. As of Sunday I had read the first section, where Don begins telling the story of his life being made into a movie. I was enjoying the book quite a bit, and was looking forward to finishing it sometime within the next three years.

As of the writing of this post, I seem to have lost the book. Like any good investigator, I've collected the facts and attempted to retrace my steps.

The last time I remember actually reading the book was yesterday, Sunday. I took my weekly three loads of laundry, twenty quarters and a book to the washeteria next to my apartment complex. I washed. I read. I dried. I read. I folded. I came home, and my clean laundry is still in the basket on my bed, wrinkling away.

The last time I remember actually seeing the book was Sunday evening. It was a little after 4:00pm, and I had decided to leave for church a little early, stop by Starbucks for some coffee and a couple more chapters. I left my apartment, locked the door behind me, began toward my truck, realized I didn't have the book with me, went back for the book, repeated steps 1 thru 3, and made my way to Starbucks.

By the time I made it to Starbucks I decided I didn't have enough time to read so I went in for my coffee, sans book. I ordered my usual, went back outside and sat down next to a table that nearly collapsed when I sat my tall Americano on it. I'm sure I didn't have the book with me. It was just me, my coffee, the rickety table, and eventually the cute girl who pulled up, walked into Starbucks and hardly noticed me. I specifically remember wishing I had the book with me at that point, as I'm sure I would have been much more noticeable to the cute girl if I had the heir of intelligence and sophistication that a good book always brings. Instead, I probably looked a little silly taking a quick sip of extremely hot coffee, burning the tip of my tongue and trying to play it off by setting the coffee down too quickly on a table that nearly fell over again.

The 28 hours that passed between leaving Starbucks and initiating my current search for the book are laced with the mystery that weighs on me now. At about 9pm I decided the book is just what I needed to wind down and enjoy my evening. I took a look around the apartment in the usual spots- my desk, the couch, the kitchen bar, the floor, under the laundry basket on my bed, etc. and couldn't find it. I even checked inside the refrigerator...twice. You never know.

By this point, it was obvious to me that I had left the book in my truck the night before. Starbucks, church, Chipotle, Black Friar, The Goat...and then back home. Nowhere do I remember removing the book from my truck. It must be there.

After thoroughly checking the truck...no book. I did, however, make a few discoveries while rummaging through the cab- a blue tarp, an old gas cap, two frisbees, another book that I lost last week and the nalgene I lost a year ago. But no Don Miller book...

I get really frustrated when I lose things. It reminds me of how irresponsible I tend to be in general. Occasionally, I binge organize. This is my attempt to solve a lifetime of chaos in a single morning. It generally involves a pot of coffee and Keane blaring in the background. And it always makes me feel really good about myself, like I've accomplished a monumental feat, defeated an arch nemesis, set everything wrong with my world right again.

The problem with having everything in its proper place is that it's all so easily accessible. Within about 28 hours I manage to find enough of my possessions to have misplaced the majority of them once again. It's amazing how quickly things deteriorate. It's amazing I've survived 32 years.

I guess when it comes time for me to write my review of Don Miller's book I'll be sure and mention how I especially enjoyed the first few chapters. I'll go on about what I learned from the book- about how it opened my eyes to the deficiencies in my own life, to my inability to "get it together," and how, hopefully, it will be one that I'll have the chance to read again one day.


Postscript: Shortly after posting this blog, I found the book. While I managed earlier this evening to look UNDER the laundry basket on my bed, I failed to look INSIDE the laundry basket, under the layer of shirts and on top of the towels. This is where I found it. How it got there is any one's guess. The fog rolling in over the city of Dallas tonight is strangely reminiscent of what goes on inside my head most days.