Dumpster Diving

It has been a blah and yucky week so today I decided to wear my favorite outfit and all my favorite jewelry. I had to stop and get gas and decided, since I was turning the week around, that I would clean out the back of the car while I was standing there. When you have a kid, things go into the car and never come out. I have a month's worth of after-school crafts back there, all made lovingly for me by my son while he was waiting patiently for me to pick him up. But there I was waiting for the tank to fill - nothing to do, a car full of construction paper and pipe cleaners and boxes, and a trash can right beside me. I started purging. Here me roar. New day! Then I realized I could no longer account for my debit card. It wasn't in my pockets. It wasn't in the car, my wallet, the ground. Oh no. I must have thrown it away with the crafts. So there I am, Tory Burch heels, black stockings, a skirt, three strands of pearls and a cashmere sweater, carefully picking through a gas station trash can. No card to be found. Then my nose started bleeding. I felt like a high priced hooker / crack whore dumpster diving for breakfast.