The Worst Instance of Me Losing Something (Middle School Edition)

By Lee Kirschner

Sometimes, when I’m lying awake in bed at night having an existential crisis, I think back to the fifteen billionth time I left my jacket in my seventh grade algebra classroom. The issue was not with the actual specific instance of me leaving my jacket in the classroom but with the fact that a) I’d done it way too many times already and b) my teacher had started to take notice and, as a result, asked me, “You’re really forgetful, aren’t you?” 

Not my finest moment. 

You may think that this was the end of my humiliation, that this is, as described in the title, the “worst instance of me losing something”, but I’m afraid that is not the case, for that describes when I couldn’t find the graduation tickets for my family the night before middle school graduation. This was very concerning for me–not just because I couldn’t find them and I was looking everywhere, but also because I was starting to suspect that I’d left them in a classroom, and not just any classroom–the very same classroom that belonged to the very same teacher as I described in the story above. 

Mercifully, I found the tickets before I sent my very anxiously drafted email to him, but it was a close call, and ever since then, I’ve learned my lesson about organization. 

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Well, mostly.