So around 7 I called my friend Ashley, and we ended going to starbucks and then hanging out for a while at her house.
Somewhere in the process of the next few hours spent at her house I put my phone somewhere. I think it’s by her piano. I hope it is.
I had to be home by 10.30 according to my dad. And yeah, that’s early, but whatever. It was like 10.23. I know cause I looked at my watch. NOTE: Not my cell. And so we came up from her basement, I grabbed my purse and put on my flats. I noticed my purse felt slightly lighter. And that stupid little voice, women’s intuition I guess you could call it, screamed “CELL PHONE!?”
But I didn’t really feel like getting yelled at for being 5 mins late (even though I was a little late and my parents didn’t even care. :\). And so I just jumped in my car.
On the way home, I had that I’m missing something feeling, but it didn’t click. (And then to add insult to injury I hit my head getting out the car, really hard. It still hurts).
Then an hour and half later and I finally realized it. I went to my purse to try and find it, to no avail. Not in my jacket pockets. Not in my jean pockets. I didn’t remember touching it since… well Ash’s house. FUCK.
And I would’ve called ashley’s cell. But, oh yeah, her # is in my cell. DOUBLE FUCK. So I picked up the house phone, something I haven’t done in a while, and called my own damn phone. Which is probably sitting on Ashleys piano, lit up and vibrating.
I hope she finds in the morning and brings it on the way to her haircut… :(
I miss my cell.