Wednesday morning, after waking up from repeated and endless dreams about work, I had to pull myself out of bed to get to the doctor's office. I waited until the last possible moment and then pulled my scattered belongings from my bedroom floor and threw them all in my bag. Then I tussled around inside the deep, cavernous depths of it fishing for my wallet so I could make sure I had all the required identification for my visit.

Fifteen minutes before my appointment time I could not find my wallet. I scanned the room again, tossing about all the pillows and blankets that bring such warmth and disaster to my room. I dumped out the contents of the paper Old Navy bag I used as my wardrobe-holder last weekend. And with no wallet, I ventured to my car guaranteed I would find it there.

I scoured the passenger side but it was not among the scrap paper covered in half written sentences or the change of clothes I had discarded the day before. It wasn't in the back seat under the in-transit coffee table or the rain jacket or the knee-high leather boots. With only five minutes til show time I started my car and practiced my pity-me speech.

Mentally retracing my steps was the most excruciating part; I hadn't seen my wallet since noon Sunday when I stopped to get gas in Fontana, California. It could be there or a resort in Palm Springs where I attended a wedding or at the many places I stopped on Monday and Tuesday doing work-related errands or on the side of the road ANYWHERE since all it had to do was fall out of my bag.

Since I had been too wrapped up in my own dramatic life to notice where my wallet was (Heather: But isn't the silver lining that you didn't spend any money during those days?) I texted anyone I had seen in that time frame asking if they had seen my wallet. The majority of my friends DIDN'T KNOW WHAT MY WALLET LOOKED LIKE.

To wrap this story up before I bore you anymore, let's just say I got to the doctor's office, they pitied me then reminded me to bring my photo ID next time (DUH), and they made me fill out a bunch of paperwork saying I would pay my bill. I skipped out of the tests I was supposed to have taken so I could go find my wallet. I got to my office praying that I had forgotten laying it on my desk and it would be sitting there waiting for me.

After parking the car I realized I hadn't checked the driver's side of the car. Sure enough, it was nestled under the seat. I shoved in my sweatshirt pocket, too relieved for words, and loaded up my arms with all the stuff I needed to take up to my office. Arriving at my desk I dumped it all and then realized my wallet was MISSING AGAIN. That's when I called Heather and said I was having a Freaky Friday moment and I would like my Good Luck back (choose your own Lindsay Lohan reference!). She laughed at me.

While I was waiting for the elevator to retrace my steps, I got a phone call from my eye doctor (who happens to be in the same building as me). Someone had found my wallet in the hallway and turned it in. They looked me up in the system and called me immediately (my phone number isn't in my wallet anywhere, lesson learned). I was embarrassed and grateful and rewarded myself by spending money all day long.

This is what my wallet looks like. Take note.