I ran up the three flights of stairs to my room in the sorority house attic and dumped the contents of my purse onto my bed. Not there. I decided I would check all the pockets as they have a tendency of hiding small objects. Yet, still no sign of my ID. Ah ha! I should check the pockets of my jeans that I wore yesterday. At this point, I was beginning to get a little concerned. I had one last option: my jacket pockets.
With my mind racing and the thoughts of having to return home only to wait hours in the dismal DMV line, I admitted defeat.

Where could that little plastic card have gone? This was not the first time I had lost my ID. Last year, an expedition to the haunted hayride left me muddy, wallet-less, and embarrassed at my irresponsibility. These two weeks after the hayride were pretty miserable for me. Without the contents of my wallet I could not go out, I didn’t have access to any money because I had to cancel my ATM card, and I couldn’t even print documents at the library without my student ID. I was not about to let this mishap ruin my already planned social events for this coming week.