Buried Treasure

I write for a humor blog with two friends, James Malins and Cherie Michiko, called Misusing Big Words. This post was originally published here:
http://misusingbigwords.blogspot.com/2008/01/buried-treasure.html
I've just finished looking for a pile of cash in my room. I use the term "finished" loosely there, as I didn't find it and therefore will probably continue looking at a later date.

Let me clear this up for anyone confused: I actually lost a pile of cash—or, more accurately, an envelope full of cash—in my room somewhere a month ago. It's not like I just decided one day—today—that I had nothing important on my schedule and thus would hunt around my room to see if I could find a pile of cash. Sure I love the thrill of an adventure, but even that's pushing it for me.

As for when I lost it, I say a month ago because that's the last time I saw it. It's not as if a month ago I placed it somewhere and immediately defined it as "lost." That would just be plain silly, after all, because 1) I would be lying to myself and anyone I told such a yarn to since if I placed it somewhere, logically I would have to know where it was unless I suffered a massive head injury of some sort immediately after I "lost" it, and 2) putting a pile of cash somewhere and immediately declaring it as "lost" seems a lot like someone is trying to lose it—though one would have to be quite deranged to think something like that might actually work in the first place—and who would actually want to "lose" a big pile of cash, anyway?

As I began to tell before I got lost in my own head, I just finished looking for the envelope today, and I noticed something quite odd about my scouring behavior. After looking in my desk drawers and school bags, and checking around my desk area, I proceeded to look in the bathroom cabinet, my underwear drawer, and even inside of a bible.

Having not found what I was looking for in any of those places—since, of course, my search was not for foot ointment, boxer shorts, or enlightenment—I continued the search.

I thought about how I had looked in most of the usual places first, of course, but later in my quest had found myself checking places that not only did I know I wouldn't find the envelope but if I were to find it there, I would be vaguely disturbed at my own thought process for 1) leaving it there in the first place, 2) thinking to look there after so much time had passed, and 3) knowing I would think to look there when I left it there to begin with. So now, after having given up looking for the day, instead of pondering where else on this unforgiving planet I might have left a whole load of cash, I'm stuck instead trying to understand the intricate twisted nature of my own psyche.

It's a strange feeling, to say the least.
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