So the boss took his department out to lunch today. Well, three quarters of his department. Lunch was good. Tried a place I hadn’t been before. Had lots of ribs on the company dime.

Cut to five hours later, and I’m getting ready to leave work. Backpack, check. Jacket, check. Wait, where the hell’s my liner?

Oh, crap. I must’ve left it at the restaurant.

Called the place. Got transferred a couple of times, only to (eventually) find out that nobody’s seen my fleece liner. Great. But they took my name and number and if the day shift happens to know where it went, they’ll call me. Hopefully.

Otherwise, someone made off with a well-worn, well-loved two-year-old Columbia Sportswear fleece liner. And my trip home from work was quite a bit colder for the loss of it.

Argh. I’d say “I can’t believe I did that,” but the problem is that I can. I’d literally forget my head if it wasn’t attached. Again I say, argh.