Do you ever lose things, and I mean really lose them, despite the fact that there is no real way they could have gone missing?

I lost a chocolate croissant. I’m serious. Now, I realize that for those of you who have seen my ass in motion lately this might seem like a good thing. But it’s not. It’s weird.

I live alone. I haven’t eaten it. It’s not where I left it. It’s in a bag. The last time I saw it, I think it was in the refrigerator, or on the counter, or on my desk. But no matter—the bag full of chocolaty goodness is nowhere to be found. It’s been missing for two days.

It’s possible that I ate it in my sleep. I do sleep walk on occasion, but as far as I know, this would be the first known case for sleep eating in my history. But then unless I also sleep-clean-up-the-crumbs-and-throw-away-the-bag-down-the-hall-because-even-the-bag-is-missing, well…. Yeah, I’ve got nothing.

Weird.