Argh

I mean, Alleluia. Happy Easter. But also, argh.

Remember a couple of months ago when I was having trouble with losing things? I've been mostly better. But. Tonight I emptied out my prescription vial and put my last three antiviral pills into a little ziploc bag to take in my purse tomorrow. Gone. Vanished. Into the ether.

Where could they be? I have fished in the kitchen garbage. I have retraced my steps. Hey, you can almost sing those lines, and then come in with... But I still haven't found what I'm looking for.

I suppose if I were a wiser and more mature person, Lent would teach me good habits that I would carry over into Easter. Unfortunately, I usually spend Easter eating too much chocolate after a season of fasting. (Note to me: temperance is a virtue for all seasons.) And my Lenten resolve to be patient about having shingles has vanished as well: blah! shingles = icky! I want this rash to go away noooooooww.

This week I have been so grateful for pharmaceuticals. (<-- not a sentence that ever came out of my mouth before shingles) I am trying to imagine what it would be like for these hundreds of spots to swell and blister and burst and crust over with NOTHING anybody could do about it except point me to the ibuprofen (or the narcotics). Noooooooo thank you. This is quite enough of a drag as it is. I shook those last three pills into my little bag with real gratitude, thinking that I would pay a whole lot of money for them. Where can they be? Where where where?

Tomorrow is not a good day for me to try to get in touch with the nurse practitioner who prescribed them, or to try to replace them if that what she recommends. I'm hoping six days of antivirals will do the trick. But I'm really hoping they turn up before I have to be out the door in the morning.

If you find my little plastic bag with three fat blue pills in it, please speak sharply to it about not running away like that. And have a blessed Easter Monday.