I love grocery shopping. Especially late at night when no one else is in there except the employees.
So tonight, around 11:30, I grab the list I would probably end up ignoring, and I head to Crest. No makeup, wearing glasses, hair in a messy bun. I do put on real pants instead of my fuzzy pink ones, so I guess that’s a point for me. The store beautifully peaceful strolling the brightly-colored aisles. And they’re having yet another anniversary sale! Yay!
So I load up a cart with the stuff on the list (and stuff not on the list). Even though there’s only one lane open, I get to check out immediately. I start looking for my wallet.
Now, my purse is very small. Phone, card case, gum, and keys with a few other small odds and ends. That’s all it holds. So it takes me about two seconds of searching to realize that my card case is NOT there.
Cue panic mode.
Okay, I actually held it together pretty well considering that I’ve never lost my wallet before. Lost my car keys on multiple occasions, but never my wallet.
The cashier is really nice and he offers to ring up my the rest of my stuff and suspend the transaction so I can go look for it. Now, my purse is hand made. I knit it a long time ago, and I actually think the pattern is still somewhere on this blog. Things don’t fall out of it. Ergo, I know it’s not in my car.
I checked the car anyway, and of course, it wasn’t there, so I drove home (like 15 minutes) asking the universe to please let the stupid thing be sitting on the counter or coffee table.
It’s not. Now for the real panic mode. I call the store and let them know that I won’t be back that night unless they can take checks without a driver’s license (long shot, but I did offer my passport instead). No go. But the lady was very nice and offered to put my name on my reusable bags so I can get them the next day.
So I step out on my balcony so I won’t break anything in my apartment in my rage and call my best friend to rant. Sufficiently calmed, I figure it must have ended up in my locker at work, which sucks because I can’t get it until morning, and I was really looking forward to sleeping in, not running to work and then the grocery store.
After a few more deep breaths, I decide to look in the car again.
This is the point where I begin to realize what a hot mess I am this evening. Because my wallet has somehow made it’s way under the driver’s seat directly in the middle. I’m honestly amazed that I even found it on my second search.
So, off to the grocery store again where they’ve really only put back the cold stuff and paper products, so at least I didn’t have to shop for EVERYthing again. After some gentle ribbing from the cashier (same guy) I finally make it home with way more than I intended to get, including an extra jar of ranch dip and aluminum foil.
It was an incredibly embarrassing, frustrating, and all around pain in the patoot experience.
As penance for my idiocy, I made myself take everything inside in one trip. From which I learned that working out couldn’t hurt, but I can be pretty impressive when I’m determined.
So, yeah. That happened.
This is why I hate leaving my apartment.