The first assignment for Young Adult Materials is to interview two teenagers, for which we need parental permission. We even have to turn in signed permission slips so that our prof can't get harassed by Human Subjects. So today in class, my wonderful classmate Nic, who let me interview his brother, handed me the permission note his mother had mailed him. I stuck it somewhere, and then later I moved it to somewhere safer, where I thought it wouldn't get lost.
I just had the terrible experience of knowing that all-important bit of paper was somewhere, even somewhere entirely reasonable, and not being able to remember where.
I found it, of course, but those were a very panicked five seconds.
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