|Top row: "So I guess I didn't lose this after all..." |
Bottom row, L to R: Passing time at the airport; the only photo I managed to remember to take
while in NJ; my Blue Fridays acknowledgement.
Most of the way through eating breakfast in the hotel's restaraunt on Tuesday morning (where I was served the biggest portions of scrambled eggs and bacon that I've ever seen... really, it was like a mountain of bacon), I reached into my purse to check in with Jim, my Dexcom receiver.
Rumble rumble rumble... clink clank clink (that's me shaking the contents around a bit)... rumble rumble...
"Um, what? Where's my Dexcom?"
It wasn't in its usual pocket of my bag. It hadn't skydived to the bottom, or gotten stuck in the lining. It had not fallen out and taken respite in the booth cushions.
It wasn't anywhere.
I coerced the front desk to give me a new key and scurried back up to my room, and just in time - the housekeeping cart was just two doors down from mine.
Barging into the room, I flicked on the bathroom light and expected to find my little blue Etch-A-Sketch - except it wasn't there.
What? Where else could it be?
I emptied my purse onto the bed, sure that I somehow missed it - nothing.
Table beside the bed, floor around the bed, desk - nothing.
With few plausible explainations left, I started to unpack my suitcase. And there, nestled between my pajamas and hairbrushes, was Jim. And not only that - he had been taking readings all through breakfast from inside my suitcase! What a guy.