Puzzled.

When I was little, I used to do puzzles with my grandma. It's probably been years since I've put one together. But today, I got a silly notion in my head that I should take all the puzzles from my classroom home, so I could put them together and make sure all the pieces are there. You see, I know all the pieces aren't there, because all year long, I pick up random pieces that have been separated from the rest of the box. I ask my kids who was playing with the puzzles or which one it belonged to, but of course, nobody had touched the puzzles, and no one knew anything about it. So I open the top draw of my desk and drop the orphaned piece in.....with the hope that I can one day reunite it with the rest of its puzzle. Well, I guess today was the day. The weather wasn't very nice out, so I didn't have any other excuses. The first one was a breeze: a Beauty and the Beast puzzle, only 60 pieces.....actually only 59. One piece is still missing. Then I moved on to a 150-piece puzzle of the Mona Lisa. I'm pretty sure that close to 1/3 of the pieces are missing because it just doesn't want to go together. I have moments when I pick up a piece and just seem to know where it belongs, but then other times, I try and try and try, and just nothing seems to fit. It's frustrating, yet strangely addicting at the same time. I just don't want to stop until I've found the last piece to the puzzle...