I’m back home now. We traveled far. We saw lots of scenery. It was a grand adventure. And I would share it with you in all its photographic glory, except I left my camera in Wyoming. Yes, I set it down while watching a film on historic Fort Laramie and walked right off without it. I didn’t know it was missing until somewhere in Nebraska. (Chimney Rock, specifically.) I tried not to panic, but we were on the homestretch of our trip. Days of photos are on that camera, and these aren’t poses you can just recreate. If they’re gone, they’re gone. I tried calling the Fort, but was having trouble getting through. Western Nebraska and my cell phone service weren’t mixing well. I finally did get through, but by then they were closed. I had a restless night. I hoped that someone hadn’t decided they were the proud new owners of a digital camera. Not that it’s special or really nice or anything exceptional. But it held my memories of the trip thus far.
The next morning I groggily called the Fort again. I was barely awake, sounded like a trucker who smokes two packs a day and hadn’t had her morning coffee, but I had to know if someone had been kind enough to turn in my camera. Had I really left it at the Fort? Or did I absent-mindedly toss it in the trash when I’d cleaned up after we had our picnic lunch? Or did I leave it in the bathroom at the Bachelor Soldiers Barracks? Where was it? Would I get it back? While we were at Yellowstone, I overheard my mother say to my father, “This might be our last time to be here” and those words stuck with me and haunted me as I wondered if I would have any photographic memories of this trip at all!
I reached a real person that morning, who had me describe my camera, said it had been found and they would mail it to me. Such relief!! I wanted to cry. That was a few days ago. My camera hasn’t arrived yet, and I began to wonder if I dreamed the phone call, so this afternoon I called the fort again. They assured me my camera was mailed and should be arriving soon.
You may be wondering why we didn’t turn around and go back to get it, but we were several hours away and by the time we would’ve gotten there, they would’ve been closed. Besides, who knew if it would even be there? We just didn’t have that much time in our “budget” to backtrack that far. I decided calling would be the most practical answer.
So now we’re back and I’ve been back at work two days. They rearranged sections of the office while I was gone and now I have a nice corner cubicle with windows in front and behind/beside me. I should be excited. Instead, I’ve got the post-vacation blues. I’ve come to fully realize how much I dislike my job. How mind-numbing and pointless it is. Being there all day has me feeling like a caged animal. But is it really my job? Or is this merely a result of me being tired and road-worn and, as a result, less patient? All I know is I don’t like feeling this way, and as trying as it could be at times traveling with family members who are used to a variety of schedules, I would take that any day over my day in the cube.
Anyway, photos and stories to follow as soon as I get my camera back. I hope it’s soon!