The Closet and My Psyche

I've never been good at treasure hunts. You would think this would make me a better organizer. But time and time again, I am running late because I can't find my darn keys (even, sadly, when they're in my hand). This is irksome to my psyche. I've been a procrastination scavenger way too long for it to be funny anymore. I bought some clothes the other day. I put them in a bag by the closet. This morning I wanted to wear some earrings, and I couldn't find the bag. GRRRRRRRRR.
The bag had completely disappeared. It was a disaster. My (semi) clean room turned into a whirlwind of soaring shoes and tumbling clothes. It means way more, than I just misplaced something. If I fail to find the bag, what it really means is:
I'm a horribly lazy person for not taking two seconds to put something away when I got home. I'm teaching my children, it's okay to be lazy. My mom would never do this. If I could just get up earlier, I would have more time to organize, and keep things clean, so that I didn't have to look for things, and my kids could get to school on time. What a bad Mother/example I am to my children!!
This is not about the bag people! My life-worthiness is at stake. I don't want to sob again on the way to preschool, so I MUST find this bag. Calling husband,

"Do you have any idea what happened to those clothes?"

"Last I saw it, it was in the closet"

getting irritated

"har har, I looked there, I can't find it, did you move it?"

"No, how come you didn't just put it away when you got home?"

HUMPH!

"Did you throw it away?,{me getting hysterical} I'm gonna be so mad if I can't find it, {me tossing clothes around the room} you probably threw it away and didn't realize it"

"Take a deep breath, you need to calm down, whenever this happens, you go into hysterics, and then you go blind. . . in fact, it's probably right at your feet and you don't see it"

Who asked this guy?

I hang up more determined than ever to find the bag so I can rub it in my husbands face maturely state that I found it up in a tall closet above shorty height. Frustrated, I decide to just put on an OLD pair of earrings (how lame is that?). I walk over to where I was when I hung up the phone and wouldn't you know it, I kick the darn bag with my foot.

Oh no. I have to apologize. I HATE apologizing. Ah phooey.

ring-ring

"Hi"

"did you find it"

"yup"

"was it right by your foot"

"yup"

"*sigh* I know it was. . . Love you"

"Love you bye"

I think that counts as an apology, right?