Putting stuff into storage? This one tip could save you headache, worry and money.

“Sugar plum, do you know if we packed my favorite blue sweater? Or is it in storage?”

[mk_dropcaps style=”simple-style”]D[/mk_dropcaps]o you know what’s in your storage unit? How about the back of your closet? OK, nightstand? Maybe you don’t care. But what about when you really want to find something?

• You know where your phone is. Check.
• You know where your car is. Check.
• Your kids are in school. Check.
• Your glasses are on top of your head. Check.
• But that blue sweater? Absolutely no idea.

Here’s how it goes in my house:

1. Look in the obvious place.
2. Search through the less obvious place.
3. No, no, I know! No, it’s not there either.
4. Ask my wife. No idea.
5. Stop. Think. Vast emptiness in my mind.
6. Give up.
7. Burst of inspiration to less less obvious place. Nope.
8. Retire.
9. Convince myself I didn’t really like it anyway.
10. Come out of retirement.
11. Start again at Step #1.

The Apple Watch can count steps and heartbeat. I wonder if there’s an app that tracks how much time we spend looking for things. Although I wouldn’t want the app because it would be too depressing to think of the wasted and frustrated hours (read: months) of my life spent looking for … something.

What if you knew where everything was? Or at least could look it up? I don’t lose digital files: I just do a search. What if you had a database of everything you put into storage? Of course, it’s only as good as how well you entered your information. What if you could actually see into the boxes? Like X-ray vision. Superman.

You can stop reading if you don’t ever look for anything. If you know where everything in your life is. You’re my hero. No, really.

Before I load up a box, I take a photo of the contents. At first, my wife (and even my kids) thought I was crazy. “You’re going to take a photo of everything that goes into the boxes?” I will quote my dentist in reply: “Only brush the teeth you want to keep.”

It doesn’t really take any longer than packing. I just scatter the contents and snap a shot of the collection. I quickly learned to take a photo of the box number so I could more easily see it in the gallery. Then I create an album for each box which corresponds, of course, with the spreadsheet. Easy peasy.

Maybe it’s overkill. Maybe it’s taking me an extra 5 minutes per box. In a year, ask me where my blue sweater is. I’ll have a glass of wine, glance at my phone, will smile and tell you, “Box 37.”