I thought my debit card was missing. At first I was really super chill about it because I remembered taking it out of my wallet to run an errand. I changed my mind about that errand and thought I put it back. Later that day when I went to grab some pizza (PIZZA!!! Yum.), I realized it wasn’t there. No biggie. I used another card. (Yes, mom, I put a slice of pizza on credit, but I had no other option at that point.) I figured I had just set it down by my purse and not put it back in my wallet.
I calmly returned home and it wasn’t there. Ok, well maybe it’s in my car. Nope, not in my car. Ok, well, maybe it’s in my purse loose. Nope, not in my purse. Well, maybe I dropped it and Gertie picked it up and took it somewhere in the apartment. I looked under the bed, couches, closet, the trash (maybe I threw it away?), the dirty clothes (maybe I wanted to wash it?) –nope, not anywhere in the apartment.
Ok, panic time. Cancelling card. Stat.
This morning, I called to order a new card and make sure nothing strange had posted over the weekend. And literally, as I’m on the phone with the bank representative, I opened up my wallet to tell her my bank account number and out falls my card. It was behind my checkbook.
And it’s too late to cancel my cancellation. So now I have no card for 10 business days.