I can't find the important paper I have to sign or the house will be foreclosed upon, or the IRS will come knocking. My daughter's sleeping bag is missing. She's about to go camping with the Girl Scouts and we can't find it. Now she's going to freeze. Most of my anxiety dreams are focused on finding something I've misplaced. Easy to do here at our house, where the clutter has clutter. Yet, there's something about not being able to find something that makes me feel like a total loser. I've lost the item, but I'm also an overall failure. A loser in two senses of the word. What's to blame? I'm in too many places during the day? I can't focus? I'm disorganized? Even if I'm organized I can't remember where I put the folder where I organized everything? I'm a terrible housekeeper? A terrible mother? In the latest dream (in which we were searching for the sleeping bag), it reappeared just as we'd given up all hope. There it was, pushed back on a shelf in the garage. The wave of relief was intense, and I recall savoring it for a few seconds: Maybe I'm not such loser.