Paralyzed

I am so sad. So, so sad.

It all started with a blank red notebook. I know-- this story has endless possibilities. A blank red notebook-- ahhh, what a beautiful way to start a story, eh?

It is beautiful no more. The endless possibilities are about to end. Because that notebook-- the blank red notebook that I fill with every aspect of my life detailed in a calendar, lists, daily schedules, names and numbers, drawings, lists, dreams, due dates, journal entries, and more lists-- is lost.

I don't know where it is. My life. Is over. I can't think. I can't focus. My mind is distracted. I'm sitting in class and I'm torturing my brain for a clearer memories of where I last saw my lifeline, my once-blank red notebook.

My friend told me that after she cut her bangs, she realized it was a mistake. It was a mistake that she couldn't get out of her mind. And still can't. She says she sits in class with her teeth clenched in frustration that her bangs are short. It dominates her thoughts and is nearly paralyzing. She tries to forget about it, but can't. And that fact, that she can't forget it, is the most stressful part of her life.

I too am paralyzed.

Text Conversation of Two Minutes Ago:
He: Dinner at 6:15?
Me: I don't know if I can. The red book is lost.
He: Oh no.

He knows. This is serious. Very serious.

I've called every "lost and found." I've called my work office. I've searched the car. I've looked everywhere in my house. I've visited everywhere that I've traveled in the last 24 hours looking for my notebook. BUT I HAVE DONE NOTHING ELSE. I haven't done homework, because I don't know what homework is due. I almost missed class, because my blessed red notebook didn't remind me that I had class-- heck, I didn't even know where class was without this book of mine.

Any information on the blank red book's whereabouts should be directed to me. ASAP.

Until I find it, I'm useless.