The Case of the Vanishing Handbag: An Epic Tale of Menopause, Memory and Meltdowns

Ladies and gentlemen, gather ’round. It is high time I tell you about the spectacular failure that has become my sleeping routine. I feel the need to share my experiences with you, not only because misery loves company, but also because, let’s face it, my lack of sleep is making me so delirious that I’m actually finding my own life absurdly hilarious.

Ah, the sweet bliss of a healthy sleep pattern. It’s been so long since I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing an uninterrupted eight-hour slumber. Gone are the days when I could doze off effortlessly, entering dreamland the moment my head hit the pillow. Thanks, menopause! You’ve gifted me with a sleep schedule that could rival that of a caffeinated owl.

But I digress. Today’s epic tale is not just about my mythical adventures in the land of Sleep-Not-Found, but about a black bag. This isn’t any ordinary bag, mind you. This bag was a gift from manang Aurora from New Jersey, a very dear friend. And it has disappeared. Poof! Gone. Vanished into thin air!

You see, when I didn’t need the bag, it had a knack for appearing everywhere, like a pesky ghost that has nothing better to do. Now that I need it, it’s playing hide-and-seek like a pro. Or perhaps it’s just really good at social distancing.

In my desperation, I even tried to utilize Reiki to locate my missing bag. Yes, you heard right. Reiki. Because desperate times call for desperate measures. And you know what Master G said?

“Just go about your day and don’t look for it.”

Master G.

DON’T LOOK FOR IT! Yeah, right. I tried, I really did. But then I found myself clocking out of work, my thoughts consumed by the mystery of the missing bag. Like a dog with a bone, I just can’t let go.

So here I stand, bag-less and slightly sleep-deprived, yearning for that glorious moment when Manang Aurora’s gift shall once again grace my presence. Will it ever happen? Only time will tell. Until then, I shall persevere, juggling the demands of work, the mysteries of sleeplessness, and the relentless pursuit of the missing bag.

And who knows, my friends? Perhaps one day, when I least expect it, this enigmatic bag will emerge from the shadows, triumphantly reclaiming its spot in my life. Until then, let us revel in the absurdity of life’s misadventures and raise a cup of coffee (or a glass of wine, depending on the time of day) to the missing bag and the laughter it brings!