I missed a lot of photo ops this weekend. The first was Bianca singing a solo at the ward talent show Friday night. She was awesome, and I didn't even get one still shot. Then Saturday afternoon, Bianca scored her first goal at her soccer game. It wasn't so much the goal that I missed, but after she scored the goal, she ran across the field in lightning speed—with the most genuinely happy smile I've ever seen on her face—to hug Eric. I'm not sure if it was the dollar I promised her if she ever scored a goal or the actual goal, but in a picture, it doesn't matter. Does it?
Of course I didn't have my camera. I've been sick over misplacing my camera for the last several days. I've taken ever spare moment to look for it. Over and over, the same places I know I already looked. But I don't know what else to do. Last time I saw it, it was in my diaper bag, about two weeks ago.
A lot of things have happened since then. I had my cleaning ladies come in while I took Portia to her first pediatrician appointment. I hate to even suggest that they may have taken it.
I've left my garage door opened for several hours so Bianca could get her scooter while I did other things. Someone easily could have wandered by, opened the door right into my kitchen where I normally keep my camera.
Could I have left my diaper bag in the car and forgotten to lock it while I ran into Smith's for five minutes?
It could have been any number of things. But worst of all is the idea that I probably left it somewhere or lost it.
I have an article assignment for Monday, and I had to have a camera by then. So, I pushed through the nauseating idea of spending $300 on a new camera and bought one yesterday. It's fine. It's actually a little nicer, and I think I'll end up liking it more than my other camera, but it just makes me sick.
I hate losing things.
