Months ago someone emailed me a request to read his new cancer memoir. If someone trying to help others asks me for help, I usually say "yes." So a few days later, a review copy arrived.
Unfortunately, after reading it and before reviewing it, I misplaced it.
In my "new normal" after chemo, every day I spend time looking for things I've "misplaced" -- the Healthy Survivors' term for "lost due to such cognitive deficits."
"Lost" carries burdensome overtones of ineptness and permanency that trigger grief. In contrast, "misplaced" conveys a more ordinary and temporary inconvenience.
Anyway, without the book on my desk to nag me, I forgot about it. A few weeks ago, the author respectfully e-nudged me about the review. Oops.
So I added the book to my daily LOMI: List of Misplaced Items. After Googling the book, with hope a visual of the cover would jog my memory, I used the misplaced book positively as motivation for some serious and sorely needed decluttering of my study.
Days later my study was in good shape and I was still looking for the book when it hit me: "For $8.99 I can buy a replacement copy and stop stressing."
As a Healthy Survivor, I now consider the cost of replacing the book similar to the cost of the meds I take for my neuropathy: an affordable option to improve my quality of life.