I AM DISTRAUGHT. I’ve searched up and down this campus, left and right even. I’ve retraced my steps, I’ve added and subtracted the probability that I ate it or flushed it down the toilet. I’ve interviewed strangers, scanned bathroom stalls and kitchen sinks. I’ve looked under my bed, I’ve searched my hair. Nothing.
This is inconvenient, to say the least. I feel like the helpless, hypocritical soul that posts a group on Facebook asking for numbers; I never cared much about those groups or their problems until now, when the problem is on me. All of those times I’ve rolled my eyes at Jane McDesperate who created the *~LoSt mY pHoNe BiTcHes! NeEd Ur NuMbErS!!!~* group, all those times I laughed, well…I’m not laughing now. Not even kind of.
I have probable reason to believe that it was taken from some location at some time I am not fully aware of yet. Reasons being: 1) I have always given my phone a good home, a charger to plug in to, and plenty of talk time. It really has no reason to run away. 2) That thing is velcroed to my palm. I don’t see it escaping me too easily. 3) Who wouldn’t want a phone that has Pizza Patrol on speed dial?
It’s not in the car, it’s not in the oven, it’s not between the couch cushions. Maybe I’ll check my hair again.
If I were my phone, where would I be?
approximatelyes.com 