Bad Move

Back when I was young, always and forever having a blast and living life to the fullest, I collected snow globes. I displayed them proudly on my desk at work, with a an old bookcase for the overflow. I didn't have hundreds, but there were probably a good four or five dozen. 

During one of the multitudes of moves I've made in the last 6 years, I've lost them. I keep that realization in the back of my head--I tend to bury it, quickly and successfully, whenever it pops up. It sucks, move on. But now that Samson apparently has such an affection for snow globes himself, I just have to continuously smack myself in the metaphorical forehead with the metaphorical palm of my metaphorical hand. I can't help but think I must have given them away or ditched them at some point, in a fit of sheer idiocy. What an amazing piece of my myself during a very awesome (who knew!) point in my life: my twenties.