There Is No Picture For This Post -

- and that's because you really can't take a picture of something that is gone. Especially when there was something else in the spot of where your something should have been.

Let me explain.

This morning I drove to work.

as usual.

I parked in (one of) my standard spot(s).

as usual.

I went inside and did work.

also as usual.


That's where the usual ends.


My brother texted me a little before 1 to tell me his plane had landed. Since I work about 5-7 minutes away from the airport, people can text me while taxiing and I still often beat them to the curb. It's a nice setup.

I walked outside to where my awesome car (seriously, have I told you how much I *love* my car? it's a lot. a whole lot. A. LOT.) was waiting for me and...

nothing.

nada.

GONE.

My first thought was, 'oh, I must have parked somewhere else.' But no. No, no, no, no, NO.

I knew that I hadn't parked anywhere else. And I knew that a car belonging to someone else was parked where my car had been parked a little more than 5 hours earlier. I kept looking at the car expecting it to magically change into mine.

It never did.

My first call was to my brother. It went something like, 'Hey, sorry, I can't pick you up because my car was stolen.'

Then I called 911. That call went something like, 'Hi, yeah, this is my address... this is my phone number... this is my name... Oh, it's really not an emergency, because it already happened, by my car was stolen. {license plate, color, make, model, etc.)'

Then I sat on the curb and cried for a couple of minutes.

Partly because I just didn't know what to do next.

Partly because MY CAR HAD BEEN STOLEN.

While crying I was looking at my phone, expecting it to tell me what to do next. I mean, it's a smartphone, right? It should know these things.

As I sat there crying and staring at my unhelpful phone I had the following thoughts running through my head:

~ Do I call Grandpa and ask him to pick me up from the trax station?
~ Thank goodness the train runs really close to my work now.
~ Do I call mom and dad even though they're out of town?
~ Bad things happen when they're out of town, I'm not going to give them permission to go on anymore trips.
~ Should I walk around and look for my car?
~ Maybe if I look over at that strange car one more time it'll turn into mine.
~ Didn't work.
~ Blast.
~ What am I supposed to do now?!

While thinking these random things, my phone rang. It was my parents. Harper had called or texted them (thanks Harper) after talking to me.

I cried a little more, and then started walking away from the lot.

Let me tell you, it was a weird feeling walking away from the lot that I had parked in hours earlier. I felt like I was abandoning my car.

I also had the thought that while I love my car, I realize it's a little like having a child and knowing they have a face only a mother could love. It's an ooold car. So I really didn't see the appeal. 

My dad said by tonight I would be able to find the humor in it.

I told him it was hilarious.

While I'm not necessarily finding humor in it, I am seeing good things in the situation.

Blessings:

~ I have been saving money purposefully for a little over a year. While I don't have a ton, I have enough to buy a new-to-me car.
~ My car was old. As much as I loved it and hoped it would never die, it could have died at any time. I'm going to assume that it was going to die on me next week. Had it died on me, no insurance money. Since it got stolen (and then died on the thieves, I'm sure of it), I get insurance money. Not a lot, but some.
~ I don't have to worry about cleaning out the old car and moving things into the new car. I get to start fresh. That's kind of a nice feeling.
~ Nothing of great value was left in the car. I almost left my wallet in there when I got out, but grabbed it and slipped it into my bag.
~ When fellow-temple workers (I work in the baptistry on Friday night) asked about identifying info in the car and my registration came up, then someone asked about a house key (my keys may have been locked inside the car) I mentioned the garage door opener being in the car. One couple insisted on following me home and helping me disable the garage door (he climbed up a tall ladder to unplug it). Others offered to let me sleep at their home, and another single lady offered to spend the night here.

The big positive of the day -

I got to hold a week-old baby for about an hour while I visited with a dear friend. My visit was delayed by an hour and a half because of the earlier event, but baby-holding therapy works wonders. As does a visit with this wonderful friend and her husband.

Also, working in the temple. Yes, I was a little on edge tonight, and feeling unsettled, but I'm glad I was able to go in and think about something else for a couple of hours.

It's been a day.

I'll start looking at cars now, but won't plan to buy for at least a week. I'm still kind of hopeful that it'll show up somewhere... but I've learned that Honda Accords are the number one (or at least have been in the past) stolen car in this country. Mostly broken down for parts.

So unless they find you soon, rest in peace little Honda. You've served me well.

(While I've perused the car classifieds here and there over the last year, I have a feeling that looking at cars for sale isn't nearly as fun when you *have* to get a car as opposed to when you don't have to.)