Check, please!

So this morning, as I was buying a bagel, I commented on the novelty of my new card. I had just received it yesterday after a week of going without. Being the first transaction, the inquisitive checker asked if I wanted to keep the receipt as a memento of this momentous occasion.

Rewinding back in time, I got home from Las Vegas last Monday night (about a week and a half ago). I had been attending a conference for my MLS program and had endured eight-ten hours per day of mind-numbing instruction. Apart from my brain, which I had left mashed on the floor of the Lied Library at UNLV where my professor had trodden on it throughout the course of the conference, I thought that I had remembered everything.

To my dismay, the next morning I awoke and could not find my wallet anywhere. Now, I knew I had it in Provo because I got it out of my pocket to pay for gas. I backtracked all of my steps, called the owner of the car we car-pooled in, and searched in all the normal and not-so normal places I normally leave things to no avail; the wallet was nowhere to be found (mind you, I only looked for about 10 minutes because we were running late).

I had a feeling that my wallet was somewhere in plain sight. That is where I usually hide things of importance and it seems to work as a good hiding place. My parents were very concerned, however, at my lack of wallet-finding ability and suggested rather adamantly that I cancel my bank and credit cards. Needless to say, I put a hold on my credit card and canceled my check card, just in case.

Miracle of miracles, as soon as I got home from work, there was my wallet, in plain sight, in my room, where I had already looked.

As I looked at that receipt, the humiliation of my stupidity flashed before my eyes. I quickly declined and left the bookstore with the desire to eat my bagel in peace, far from the tortuous receipt bent on recalling to my conscience the fact that I really am scatter-brained. Then again, anyone who knows me already knows that.