Losing keys, ID card makes for frustrating Monday night

To an angry writer, a blank page is the ultimate temptation for a bitter diatribe – whatever the subject may be.
And when I transform into Abby-On-Deadline – an explosive, angry beast with a penchant for procrastination – that enticement becomes even more alluring. Add this naturally occurring shift in temperament to a Monday night turn on the dreadmill at the Carneval Athletic Pavilion and, well, you’ve got yourself a strung-out journalist cocktail.

Abby Badach, editor-in-chief

And I’m talkin’ Moltov, not appletini.
In this stressed-out state, one might imagine how I would react when I reached down to grab my keys and Gannon University ID card and could not find them anywhere. That foot of snow on the CAP sidewalk melted in the wake of my fury as I left the building.
“Of course someone must have stolen them,” I said to the calming voice on the other end of the line when I called Campus Police and Safety. “I left to get a drink of water, and they were missing by the time I came back.”
After reporting the card missing and deactivating its access to my GU Gold funds, I hoped the thief didn’t sprint to the lobby vending machines and spend the remainder of my money.
Though my account balance isn’t sky-high, it certainly amounts to quite a few bottles of Gatorade and snack-sized bags of TGI Friday’s Potato Skins.
I recalled every suspicious looking face I came across during my workout. Heck, even the 3-foot-tall kids from the youth basketball program I ran into afterward weren’t entirely innocent in my mind.
Trying not to leave doorknobs too scaldingly hot as I touched them, I walked into the Waldron Campus Center – still considerably angry at the nerve of whoever stole my keys – and began my shift at work.
Less than an hour later, I received word that my keys had been found.
They hadn’t been stolen at all. I had left them in the cup holder of an exercise bike next to the water fountain when I went out to get a drink.
Apparently, my keys and ID have a greater affinity for stationary exercise equipment than I do.
Anger and accusation, I realized, can act as self-destructive forces.
I wasn’t helping anyone by assuming a nasty bandit had tiptoed over to the treadmill to snatch my keys when I was at the water fountain.
In my whirlwind of frustration, I neglected to recognize the generousness of humanity. At the end of the day, people are generally good.
Or maybe there’s no grand lesson about humanity to be learned here at all. Maybe my possessions were just attempting to flee southward to a warmer climate after this weekend’s surprise blizzard.
I wouldn’t blame them if that was the case.
Not one bit.

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