I woke up this morning on my couch. I wasn’t just on my couch. I was on top of the pillow that provides the back support on my couch. Yes, like a cat, I was precariously hanging on top of my couch. Lrudlrick was on his man chair working.
I have a tendency to fall asleep on the couch whenever Lrudlrick works late. It’s been a habit for quite sometime. I just don’t know how I got to sleeping on top of the pillow.
I still haven’t found my id. Numerous calls to the MTA and visits to the campus security office have turned up nothing. I guess I’ll have to go to HR next week and pay the $15 penalty. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that my one and only id photo that looks like me is gone forever.
My id had a decent photo of me. This is rare. I’m not a good id picture taker. I’ve fallen off of stools, smiled at the wrong camera and even once was so pale I blended in with the white background. All you saw was black hair, two beady eyes and red lips.
I try. I really do. I make sure broccoli isn’t stuck on my teeth. I make sure my lip gloss isn’t running off my face and my hair isn’t standing on end. I think it’s because I have soft features and soft features don’t stand out in a flat photo.
I was proud of my id photo. It actually looked like me. Now I’m wishing I kept my hair appointment last week. I’m desperately in need of a hair cut.
Dear photo id, goodbye. We’ve shared some great memories. I’ll always remember you. You were the first id that looked decent. I can only hope you’re not wedged somewhere in a Manhattan bus’ undercarriage. Godspeed, my dear id. You are gone but not forgotten. R.I.P.
