We spend many hours looking for things that we lose in our homes. I’m beginning to think it’s at least half of our lives.

I would love to do a study on how many hours we spend looking for things that we lose in our homes.

I’m beginning to think it’s at least half of our lives. Not a day goes by without me looking for my glasses. It used to be my car keys, too, but somehow I became vigilant about simply leaving them in the car. Suddenly, they are always there! The glasses are another issue. I use reading glasses, and sometimes I also need distance glasses. The last time I got a new prescription, I thought I would resolve the problem by buying a couple of pairs of each. I couldn’t conceive of misplacing all of them. But, hey, what do I know? On any given day, you guessed it, they all disappeared. They seem to have a life of their own.

Sometimes they are in the bathroom, sometimes the kitchen. What I really don’t get is when I find them on top of the washer or dryer or next to the tub. The other day, after an hour of wild histrionics, I discovered them sitting outside on the front steps. And it gets really scary when you realize you have them on and you’re looking for them.

I’m beginning to wonder if I’m on my way to memory slippage or if the glasses have taken on a life of their own and are part of an alien society invested in taking over my mind. I watched “Twilight Zone” years ago, and I think Rod Serling was on to something.

It’s the craziness behind misplacing things that really gets to me. We become walking sitcoms, asking anyone around us the most insane questions. I remember one day, back when I was married, looking for a shoe I couldn’t find. I was in a hurry, and I scoured the entire house. Then I became totally irrational and accused my ex of taking it.

What would a 6-foot man want with one size-seven black pump? But that kind of rationale doesn’t even resonate with us when we’re in that state of mind.

I think the question we ask the most is whether the person we live with has seen what we’re looking for. Their response is always the same. “Well, where did you put it?” The answer is as nuts as the question. If I knew where I put it, I wouldn’t be looking for it.

Shouldn’t someone be inventing a tracking device that finds our stuff? I think it would make millions. I would also like them to invent something that helps us lose some things we really don’t want to keep and are afraid to get rid of.

Well, if you have any ideas, let me know. I’m down to one pair of glasses and, as of last night, they were missing in action.

Author, humorist, PBS star and Fortune 500 trainer Loretta LaRoche lives in Plymouth. To share your pet peeves, questions or comments, write to The Humor Potential, 50 Court St., Plymouth 02360, send e-mail to getalife@lorettalaroche.com, visit the Web site at www.stressed.com, or call toll-free 800-99-TADAH (82324).