Where the hell did I ...?

Things keep running away on me.

I prefer to think of this not as forgetfulness (or, gasp, aging) but the consequence of inadequate sleep.

A few weeks ago, I lost a piece of paper. I have used that same piece of paper every two weeks for, like, years. I keep it in the same place all the time. It was not in that place.

And yesterday, I thought, "I may have put that piece of paper in the file folder with this year's taxes." So I went to check the Taxes file folder.

Except I can't find the Taxes file folder.

Also yesterday, I obtained my father's gift for Fathers' Day. I've had the card for weeks, so all I needed to do was seal up the car--

-- it isn't on my desk, where it ought to be. Now, I know I'd brought it in to work, so I checked at the office today. Not there either. Not at work; not at home. Damn. I'll have to buy a new card -- and it probably won't go out on time, either.

After I came from work today (and did one last fruitless check for the paper, file, and card), I printed out an email that I needed a hard copy of. (Of which I needed a hard copy. Whatever.) It was four pages long and stopped printing after the first three. Why? Out of paper.

Oh. No problem; I'll just reload some paper. I open the cabinet where the paper should be and ...

... I do not freakin' believe this.