1. A banana from my kitchen. I didn’t offer you a banana, Jolene. You just took it. I realize this is petty but look, we’re building up.

2. The most expensive purse in my closet along with all of my identification and my Pat McGrath lip balm. I love that lip balm you cruel bougie bish.

3. The signature fashion sense I finely crafted over years of trial and error. I would walk down the street and people would tell me, “Oh hey, you look like Jolene,” but really, YOU LOOK LIKE ME.

4. My car, registration, insurance, and weirdly, all of my parking tickets?

5. All of my passwords and the facial ID on my phone. My mother is sick, Jolene, and now I can’t call her. I had to use a LIBRARY to email Mom from a new account, but then she told me she’s been talking to me all week but my voice was different???

6. My steady 9-5 job including my desk, name tag, W-4, and signature watercooler banter. When I showed up to work they’d say, “Hey, didn’t I just see you by the watercooler? You had a great joke about a stolen banana.” But that wasn’t me Jolene… no…. no it wasn’t me.

7. My social security number. Basic, but pretty devastating.

8. My birthday party. I was somehow able to contact my friends and family and we all gathered at my favorite restaurant, and you just stormed in shouting, “Hey everyone, you’ve been tricked! It’s not her birthday, it’s MY birthday! Give me all the presents and cake!” AND THEY DID.

9. My apartment, my keys, and my face in all of my personal photographs. My face? How did you do that? When did you have the time? No one could have that much time. My god, Jolene, was I even here at all?

10. My sense of reality. A philosopher once said “I think therefore I am,” but he never met Jolene. I wander, invisible to the world, a head with no face, a figure with no form, a woman with no job, or home, or mother, or banana.