Lost Wayfarers: A Saga

Despite the television gold of Glee and Lost that took place last night, yesterday was borderline terrible.

I left my Wayfarers* on a seemingly safe counter in an office on campus, and when I came by they were gone. Clearly, I took everything off the counter, looked under all the chairs, in all the drawers, emptied by backpack TWICE. No Wayfarers.

Now, I am the first to admit that I am abnormally bad at finding things when I lose them. So much so, that when I don't live with Meagan anymore (RIP), I don't know how I'm going to function because she always helps me find my lost items. BUT, I did some serious hunting for the sunglasses this time, and they were not there.

So I dragged my feet home, squinting and thinking of how my my retinas were being damaged by the blinding Alabama sun. Then I moped.

Scene change. Fast forward to this morning.

After playing a few games of tennis around 10:00 (burning retinas) I went to check my cell phone. I have one missed call from roommate Monica and one text from roommate Monica that says, "911." I immediately call her back. No answer. Text her, "are you ok?" No answer. Call again. No answer. Call Meagan, who hasn't heard anything. She texts Monica. No answer.

So, obviously, I'm thinking that someone came into our house and Monica locked herself in a room and called me. But since I didn't answer, the intruder busted down the door and killed her, so I start booking it home and mentally preparing myself for a crime scene.

Monica calls me back 10ish minutes post-panic to tell me that someone found my Wayfarers.

It's a spring miracle, really. 911: merited. If lost Wayfarers aren't an emergency, I don't know what is.

*Did you know that wayfarer actually means someone who travels by foot? Interesting, because the past few days I have been plagued by severe shin splints (I'm becoming such an athlete) and I don't want to do anything on foot, but that is neither here nor there.