Misplaced = lost

I lost my car. Literally. I thought it was stolen. My beautiful, sleek Nissan, gone forever. I missed its roll-up windows, its faded paint, its special cracked dashboard, and that even more special sticky clutch. I didn't know who in the world would want to steal this car, but I did know it wasn't where I must have left it.

I filed a report.

I talked with a policeman.

I took a deep breath and said, "I can do this. I'm an adult." And I did.

But then. All of a sudden, my sister comes running through my front door.

"THEY FOUND YOUR CAR!! Why aren't you answering your phone?"

Anyway, long story short, I parked it on campus, forgot about it, then walked home. I left it there Tuesday night and COMPLETELY forgot about it. Honestly, no recollection at all. Still. None.

I am more upset and mad now than I was before when I thought it had been stolen. I can forgive others. You know, that's a little easier than forgiving myself. I have this ideal that I need to be an amazing person, juggling a lot of things at the same time, but this has humbled me in that I can't do everything. I need breaks, I need time to breathe, I can't do everything. If I can't even remember where I parked, I have too, too, toooooooo much going on. Too much.

So, what have I learned?

1. Don't drive to campus. I live close enough that I can walk.
2. Text Laurel the place I have parked for the next 2 weeks until this term is over.
   
3. Stick to a schedule so I can easily look back over my week and think about what I did and where I was.
4. Don't assume my car was stolen. Because it was probably my own forgetfulness.

THE END--time to move on