The Family Curse is not, as Dr Sordid may surmise, being Completely Hatstand but something far more serious.
We never have any scissors. It doesn't matter how many pairs of scissors we actually own, when we need a pair urgently, we can't find any or if we do, they are totally unsuitable for the task at hand i.e. nail scissors when we want to cut wallpaper (not that that stops us using the unsuitable pair, you understand, it just means we are more aggravated than we might otherwise be).
Hitherto, I thought I had freed myself from the curse by not living with my sister, who has always been the prime suspect when anything sharp goes missing. She loses scissors & knives the way other people lose socks, and she is a veritable Bermuda Triangle to sock-kind. Therefore I have enjoyed years of curse-free existence, living with multiple pairs of scissors for different purposes and always knowing where to find the pair required for the task in hand.
Today I decided to try out Acrylik's instructions for an accordian book. I reached out for the pair of scissors which I had put down by my armchair last night. Nope, not there. I expanded the search a little wider, a bit more, a little bit more then just switched to frantically searching the whole room. My lovely big pair of scissors? Gone. I get my crochet case which always has a pair of scissors inside. Nope, no cutting implement there either. Fine, the sewing box - that has a pair of utility scissors. Not there either. Cue hair grabbing & feet stamping. I eventually found a pair on the knitting machine table hidden by a cushion. No, I don't know why there was a cushion on the knitting machine table - ask Dave.
It is all part of the Universe (or Eris's) plan to turn me into a complete raving loon by hiding all my stuff. I'm currently off balance because of the re-organisation of the flat. I don't know where everything is and it is bothering me. I'm not a tidy person and I enjoy a certain amount of clutter but I usually know where things are. Well, yarn mainly. Need a ball of something blue & fluffy? Right over there in that red carrier bag. Cream crochet cotton? Upstairs in the green tartan laundry bag. Except that I've been transfering the yarn into something more durable and more easily arranged and now I don't know where my yarn is. On a ball by ball basis that is, I mean, I know where the stash is, I just no longer have the whereabouts of each stash component ready to hand inside my brain. And I'm finding it to be a very traumatic experience.