Search, rescue, and duh

Yesterday was another day of ups and downs. An interesting thing, however, occurred involving losing my phone. Here's the two-part punch line: first, keeping a lot of garbage around makes finding what you lost difficult; and second, when something goes missing, don't rule yourself out as the culprit.

I went out to kayak on the lake and was gone a long time. While out there I was collecting trash into a bag that I found (also trash). I planned on being out for a while, so I took my phone – enclosed in three Ziploc bags and paper towel. Because this is a sort of meditative activity for me, I turned the ringer off.

Four hours later and much choppier water, I got back home, only to tip out of the boat and flood it. It was an ordeal to get the boat emptied and back ashore over a break wall. I was exhausted, visibly so, and a neighbor and good friend invited me to have lunch with him. I left my paddle, life vest, keys, the garbage bag, and my phone on the deck.

When I returned a couple hours later (Wimbledon semifinal between Murray and Janowicz, great show), I gathered up my stuff, threw out the bag of trash, and went in to my place to collapse. I woke wondering where my phone was, and I searched everywhere. I remembered going to the pier, I tried to remember taking it upstairs, so I...nope, I DID NOT call my neighbor because I had no phone. I was petty sure I left it...in the bags. Someone took my phone.

Yeah. I have no trust. I should have thought, "someone picked up my phone." Not, "stole."

The gist of the tale is that someone had picked up the phone bag, but thought it was also trash, and threw it in the bag I collected all the lake-trash in. Technically, I threw out my own phone.

I didn't figure this out until knocking on doors and looking through dumpsters for the bag I remembered putting my phone in. On realizing I had lifted the bag of trash I myself threw in to look for my float-bags, I laughed with relief and irony.

Anyway, if I smell a little funky the next time you see me at class, it isn't me. It's my phone.