Last week I lost my wallet.
All of my school IDs, work IDs, driver’s license, Ventra card, punch cards, Walgreens card, dignity, etc were gone.
“The incident” happened on a Saturday. With an influx of nice weather in Chicago, my roommate and I decided to go for a cool lakefront walk. Enjoying the last few days of nice weather is a necessity.
Our lakefront stroll included picturesque skies, sailboats, and sun. Taking in the beauty of the day, I became inspired and naturally, decided to finally create an Instagram account.
Up until last week, my Instagram game was nonexistent. I didn’t find the platform to be that much different from Facebook and I didn’t understand what all the hype was. Plus, I’ve never thought of myself as much of photographer. Maybe the endless photos I’ve taken with my thumb in the corner of the shot gave me the hint that the photography industry wasn’t for me, but whatever it is, taking photos is not my strong point.
So on Saturday at the lakefront I decided it was time to move into the 21st century and get an Insta account. My roommate and I snapped silly photos to get the perfect first shot to upload.
If I was going to make an Instagram, I was going to do it right.
On the 151 Sheridan bus on our way back from our impromptu lakefront photoshoot, I lost my wallet. Maybe I was caught up in the world of Instagram and my head was in the perfectly filtered clouds. Whatever was going on in my mind, I left my wallet on the bus.
When I got home and realized what I had done, I was in pure denial. I would never be so irresponsible as to lose my wallet on a bus. After reality suck in, I had a panic attack. Not one of my proudest moments, but it happened. I spent my weekend miserable and worried sick.
After harassing the CTA via nervous-panic phone calls (I’m sorry Rhonda from CTA’s North Park Garage), littering Twitter with my despair, and worrying my parents and roommates about my sanity all weekend long, I received what I am calling “the miracle call” on Monday afternoon.
DePaul Public Safety informed me that some amazing, anonymous angel turned in my wallet to them with everything in it. I was truly speechless when I got the call. Whoever turned in my wallet, I owe you my life and a homemade batch of cookies or something.
I still am at a loss for words for the whole experience. I felt a sense of guilt when I found out my wallet had been found. I had made such a fuss over the loss of my IDs, and it was all for nothing. My wallet was found by some sort of miracle act of kindness.
Looking back on the experience, I have a few take aways. Even if my wallet hadn’t been found, I was going to be okay. I didn’t need the drama that came along with losing some plastic cards and my Wetzel’s Pretzels punch card that were in the end easily replaceable. More importantly, I didn’t need to throw my whole weekend away once losing my wallet.
Long story short, my Instagram account is up and running (follow me @simplykreykrey) and my wallet and I are never leaving each other’s sides again. Sometimes, instead of panicking, it’s important to put things in perspective and take a step back.
Even if your Red Mango frozen yogurt frequent member card is gone for good, just remember that it will all be okay with the right attitude, patience, and a sprinkling of luck and kindness.