I did several loads of laundry and packed in a haze yesterday after we got back from Charlotte. We woke up Very Early this morning for a 7:15 flight. I was sort of going through the motions on the way out the door. Wallet...check. ID...check. I was quietly eating my granola bar in the passenger seat of the car. And then I was gripped by pure terror.
As we were approaching the airport exit on the highway, my hands flew up to my face and I yelled "Oh my God!!!!! My iPhooooooooooone!!!!!" To put it mildly, I freaked the eff out. A string of expletives tumbled from my mouth. Jason tried to calm me down and told me there was an iota of a chance that he had picked up my phone and put it in his work bag. Yeah, right. Fat chance. So I quickly started thinking about solutions. I had decided I would call the apartment office, ask them to go in and retrieve The Precious and Fed-Ex it to me at our hotel in Philly. Overnight. Sooner if possible. DO IT NOW PLEASE.
Wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles. We parked and Jason went to the back to get our luggage. I hear a "pssst" and when I turn in his direction, he's holding up two iPhones. Saying nothing, I just run to him and throw my arms around his neck. My hero! My knight in shining armor! And, finally, the panic in me subsides and I feel whole again.
As we're walking to the terminal I say "I think maybe I have a slight over-dependance on technology."
You can file that under N for "NO SHIZ".
I'm ready for my Under Statement of the Year award now. Thanks.