It wasn't funny at all when it happened, but now when I think about it and look back at my behavior as the minutes unfolded layer by layer, it was pretty funny.
Last Friday evening, Prisca called me to confirm the time for our first workout. We planned to meet the next morning at the track at 6:00 a.m. We planned to spend 30 minutes for core and legs work, and 15 minutes for quick dash on the track. After the workout I'd run for four or five miles and Prisca would stay at the track to work on her martial art moves. Both of us were excited to get back to our weekly workout routine. I stopped for a month because of the fasting and Prisca hadn't been well and not to mention the woman is workaholic.
By 5:30 a.m I was ready in running short, Langkawi t-shirt and sipping a fresh brewed coffee and munched on a slice of lightly buttered pumpernickel toast. After I rinsed the coffee mug, I went back to a living room to get my ID and health insurance card from my backpack. When I reached the inside pocket of backpack where I usually kept my purse, the pocket was empty. My heart skipped a beat. I had everything in that ole worn-out purse. My new bank card, student ID, Boston Public Library card, $24 worth of first class stamps, 2 USB flash drives and a couple of receipts.
I sat on the couch and went through the backpack inside out, not once, not twice but three times. Even on the third time, I knew I was not going to find it, but I went through it anyway. I looked under the couch, under the books on the couch and on sewing table. I moved and turned upside down the fabrics on the working table. Nothing.
After fifteen minutes I called Prisca to let her know that I wouldn't be joining her at the track.
"Kak, I'll pray that you'll find your purse."
"Thank you Prisca. I'll let you know when I find it."
One thing that I was sure that my purse was in my apartment because I remembered I removed my ID and bank card from the back pocket of my short and placed them back in the purse. I remembered I was standing next to the coffee table and my eyes were on tv screen watching the last 10 minutes of Chopped.
After 30 minutes of searching, I decided to take a break, even though I was pissed off at myself for spoiling my plan.
Oh well, let me make myself an omelet. I opened the refrigerator door and took three eggs from the egg carton and grated Monterey Jack cheese and placed them on kitchen counter-top. As I cracking the eggs into a bowl, I remembered I still have a half a bag of baby spinach. I turned around and opened the refrigerator door and pulled the vegetables drawer. Lo and behold!!! There was my ole worn out purse. Sitting cute and pretty on a bag of yellow onions. How did my purse get into a refrigerator?
Amazing, in that moment, I saw every step I took after I found the purse. It was like a rewind DVD.
I leaned the bike against the wall, , removed the plastic bag from bike's handle and walked into a living room. I grabbed the remote control with my right hand while holding the plastic bag in my left hand. I turned the tv on food network channel.
I put the plastic bag down on the floor and removed the backpack from my back. I took out the purse from the backpack while my eyes were glued on tv screen, reached out my ID and bank card from my bag pocket and put them in the purse. When the commercial came on, I picked up the plastic bag off the floor and went to the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator and took out bag of onions from a plastic bag and put it in vegetable section. Then I heard Ted Allen's voice to announce who was going to get chopped.
In a hurry, I must have had put the purse in vegetable drawer and closed refrigerator door and went back to watch the Chopped.