I opened the front door at work, then turned my back pack upside down and dumped everything I had in it on the floor. And yet I couldn’t find my iPhone. I had emergency socks, a fork, spoon, a lunch, headphones, a balled up kleenex, a green & grey rock (that I believe is from the south shore of Lake Superior) and various other items, but I couldn’t find that damn iPhone. What do I expect having a black phone in a black bag? Where the HELL is my phone? AACK!
Will that beeping stop? Oh, My GOD!! The police are going to come and . . . oh, okay, here is my old cell phone.
Dial.
“Hello?”
“OH my God! What is the alarm code!?”
“What? Where are you?”
“Iamatworkwhatisthe CODE??”
WHOOP!! WHOOP!!
“What is the code?!”
WHOOP! WHOOP!
“Okay, its um . .. XXX, okay? Okay?? Got it?”
Blessed silence.
November 12th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary: Just because they don’t tell you there is an alarm, doesn’t mean there isn’t one. And look, there is my little iPhone, tucked neatly away where it’s usually kept.
The Daily EO 