Is my head scewed on?

Vickie Pynchon's poignant post - Billy Collins' Forgetfulness - reminded me to post this.

In the last month I have left a cell phone, a wallet (both retrieved), a boarding pass (I told the guy with no humour at the gate - not my fault, probably pick-pockets at work in his airport) and a set of keys (no trace) at various mediation venues around the country.

Yesterday my mediation book, in which I write all my notes, arrived back in a courier bag with a nice, non-judgmental (if badly spelt) note.