Yesterday I was pretty sure my car had been stolen from the Target parking lot near the Florida State University campus. I’d gone into the store for one item, and as most Target runs go, I ended up buying a shopping cart full of stuff.
When I finally checked out to the tune of more money than I should have spent on a random Thursday and went to load my purchases into my little Chrysler 200 my car was nowhere to be found. I knew exactly where it was supposed to be, but clearly it had been stolen.
I wandered around the parking lot for a few minutes before remembering to hit the panic button on my key fob. In vain I listened for the annoying alarm sound. I turned this way and that to no avail.
My heart dropped into my stomach. As I returned my key to my purse, though, my fingers brushed against another key chain. Oh! I thought. I didn’t drive the Chrysler today.
I looked up to realize I was standing mere inches from our Lincoln SUV. I stood there and laughed long enough that people around me were beginning to stare. They were all college students, though, so who cares, right?
The Chrysler is on loan to a friend, and since we seldom drive the Lincoln I’m likely to “lose” my car many times over the next couple of months. I won’t chronicle every episode here, but my sanity might go missing, as well.
Peace, people.







