Define "Insanity"

What really is the definition of insanity? Not the clinical term...but just the every day, anybody term. Because lately more and more I feel like I'm losing my mind.

Like yesterday. I brought T's business checkbook to work to write a check for an award entry and then planned to pay bills after the work day was over. I wrote the check, put the checkbook down on the floor near my bag and thought "I really shouldn't leave this just lying on my floor." and tucked it away in my bag.

Come 5pm, I am searching HIGH AND LOW for the freaking checkbook that has apparently vanished into thin air. I mean checked my pockets, my purse, my canvas bag, all my files, in box, out box, copy room, floor, EVERYWHERE. And as compulsive as I am, I checked all those locations like 5-10 times. Especially the canvas bag where I SWORE I put the damn thing. Nothing. So - in my regular daily exhaustion - I start to panic. I just know it's gone. Who in the hell would take a checkbook? At least there was only one check left in it. But still.

So I call in the troops. Headed down to the office manager's office and requested assistance. Sent out an agency-wide email pleading for extra lookers. And then spent the next 30 minutes having everyone question me on where I'd been, if I'd looked here, if I'd looked there. All the while I'm growing more and more stricken.

How in the hell could I lose a damn checkbook? How in the hell could the thing vanish in 2 feet of space? Am I that big of an idiot that I can't keep up with my own personal property? I'm 36...surely I can manage to keep up with something so important.

So - I take deep breaths. I am trying to remain calm and not completely wig out. Things like this happen. To everyone. On a regular basis. I really just need to cut myself some slack. However, that is my biggest vice. Cutting myself slack is the hardest thing in the world. I'm learning how. But I'm still in Kindergarten. Crap - let's face it. It's more like the Toddler room or PreK. Anyway...

Now I'm asked for the 5th time if I've looked in my canvas bag. YES. 10+ times. Flipping through. Pulling everything out. Flipping through. Pulling everything out. But - I'll do it again. And I'll be...there was the little f**ker just sitting there.

Now - please tell my that I'm not insane???