While I was sitting in the terminal at SFO awaiting to board the plane home, I was listening to my iPod, nothing unusual. Music has always been a huge crutch in my life. It inspires, it laughs with me, it cries when I cry, it comforts me when I'm feeling blue, the list goes on and on. Upon boarding, I tied up the ear buds and slipped my 80gb, black, iPod classic into my coat pocket. When we finally reached 35k feet and were given the go, I reached for that box of music, and reached...Nothing. I found nothing. She'd disappeared. I spent nearly four hours listening to nothing but the hum of the commuter plane. It was torture, I wanted to cry but I'm a big girl.
To make myself feel better I imagined that I had accidentally dropped the iPod before boarding the plane. Perhaps the finder was awaiting their plane home for a funeral or even worse, a wedding? Maybe they were having a bad day? Maybe they were looking for a sign and my iPod was it? Cheesy, I know, but it's my hope for humanity. Who wants to reflect on reality and petty thievery anyway?
Anyway, not even a day later and I'm with iPod. How sad.

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