Lost and Found

Nothing drives me crazier than the idea of losing something very important or being lost personally. Well, I did a kind of stupid thing yesterday… I put my credit card on my car and drove off.

Seriously, I’m not kidding, I did. And I knew this is what happened to my card as soon as I opened up my wallet and didn’t see it staring back at me, and I didn’t feel the weight of it in my back pocket. I called up my Mom in a panic since I knew she was in that area and told her to stop by the gas station and see if it was there.

I could hear her on the phone, “That’s shiny! Wait, no, that’s not it.” It seemed like it was nowhere to be found so I immediately got proactive (now, mind you, it’s maybe been a half and hour, but I’m not fooling around) and call up my bank to cancel it. Just as I’m put on hold to talk to someone to cancel my card, my Mom calls me back. I pick it up and hear a loud, “I got it! So, what do I get in return for finding it?” 

Uhh, well, thanks? I’ll buy you dinner next week for your birthday (which I already agreed to) and call it a day? And, remind me, never put your card on the car again and drive off. Very, very stupid move on my part, hopefully I learned my lesson. That was too much of a scare not to learn something from it.

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