I have odd tendencies toward both structure and chaos. I’m very much a creature of habit, behavior-wise, but I get a little looser when it comes to objects. I lose things or forget I own them, then find them again in unlikely places. Often, they are important things–like my passport (yet I still have credit card statements from more than five years ago, neatly filed away with payment receipts for the car long since paid off and then sold). I used it last August for my summer vacation, and then promptly misplaced it when I got home. I remember I last saw it somewhere on the bookshelf in the bedroom of my old apartment. I looked for it in February when I packed to move to my present place. No luck. I combed each box when I unpacked. Still nothing. Then Will started talking about traveling to Europe soon; my excitement was tempered with worry about having to replace my passport. Last night, I realized I will need to get a new driver’s license in the next 6 weeks, which is a much easier process with passport in hand. Also, not to sound paranoid, but I didn’t like the thought that I couldn’t just leave the country at a moment’s notice. I decided to check one last time on my bookshelf, even though I figured it would be futile, seeing as I had packed and unpacked all those books and objects and not found it. And there it was, on top of some books on the middle shelf. How had I missed this? Last time I lost my passport, I found it under my sofa in a box with my missing rolling pin and a shirt I forgot I owned. And now I’ve squirreled it away again in a safe place. I’m pretty sure I remember where.