Okay, actually, it was panic at the gym. And at home. And in the car.
Basically, a lot of panicking.
This morning, I was so proud of myself. Despite catching a little case of insomnia yesterday and having to watch King of Queens reruns to put myself to sleep. I got up at FIVE THIRTY this morning and made my way to our local gym.
Armed with my trusty iPhone (used mainly for obsessive wikipedia-ing of characters in Percy Jackson) and The Last Olympian, I pushed myself through a morning workout. And I really dislike morning workouts because I feel they are less productive than ones when I am actually awake, but it had to be done.
So…I get my workout done, go home, take a shower, then get my egg muffins out to microwave them. And I notice there are only six left in the fridge, which then leads me to believe that Ducks ate 15 of them for breakfast (two is an appropriate portion), which then irritates me, because I thought I made enough to last all week. I head back to the entryway table to get my phone, text him and give him a piece of my mind.
This is scary. I don’t know who all out there is a smartphone user, but these things are ridiculous, because they literally do hold ALL your personal information. If someone got to my phone, they could quickly take my life’s savings through my online account apps, wreak havoc on my personal relationships by texting or using my email, ruin my work credibility by posting messages from my work profiles — and the list goes on. Scariest of all, they could severely mortify my by checking my wikipedia history and seeing what an extreme nerd I am.
I frantically checked everywhere aroung my house. Bedroom where I got dressed. Laundry room in case I threw it in the trash in there. Purse (but who really thought it would be there? Come on now). Workout pants pocket. Upstairs bathroom. All to no avail.
I got on my laptop and sent Ducks a Facebook message saying “Did you take my phone? And where are all the egg muffins?!” He wrote back and said, “No, and I only had two this morning.” Great. So now, there’s an egg muffin burglar in addition to my phone, savings and credibility being on the line. Awesome. Great Monday.
So, I rush to the gym and ask the front desk guy if it’s been turned in. It hasn’t. Then, I check the bike I was last using. Not there. Panic further ensues. The guy at the gym, despite his Hurley hat, was extremely nice and let me use the gym phone and his personal phone to make calls. So, I still can’t find it. I resign myself to the worst and plan to go to work (since we have no home phone) and spend my lunch hour repairing damages.
When I get to my car, I hear the alarm. Not the car alarm. The alarm that tells me, “It’s time to leave your house.” The freaking phone is there….in my car. It blended in with the black seats…and with my stupidity, apparently. Grr.
So, crisis averted. But I still felt pretty foolish to start off the week. Sigh. How did your Monday start?