This is a squirrel:
That is pretty much all they do and, according to my cartoon-based knowledge of nature, when winter is coming squirrels will gather lots of nuts and stuff them into a hole in a tree so that when they are needed later on the squirrel will know where to find them.
I am a human:
I have skin and am not blue but you get the idea. My species is capable of designing the internal combustion engine:
And yet, whenever I receive an item that I need to store for later use, “squirreling it away” if you will, I proceed to go out of my way to come up with the single most ridiculous spot in the world to put it. A spot utterly guaranteed, as if by magic, to not once in a million years cross my mind later on when it comes time to tear my apartment apart looking for my passport, my spare checks or needed receipts.
How come a fucking squirrel can handle this task, but I can’t?
Why did I finally find my spare set of keys in a box of old books under my bed and my passport in my bottom desk drawer under a stack of old Calvin and Hobbes books?
Why are my nuts not in trees?