First the bike rack, now this

If you've called my phone recently, you should have gotten this message:

"Hi, you've reached Sara. Um, I lost my phone, so if you need to get a hold of me, call Tim."

This is why expensive phones, with special texting capabilities and "apps" and oohh, I can check Facebook every second, you know, those phones, are not for me. My phone was a $60 replacement phone that Cingular reserves for extra-special people like me that drop their phone in the toilet and aren't due for an upgrade anytime soon.

Here's what I think might have happened. This story requires a little background, so be patient. First of all, you need to know that the Milwaukee VA has some of the worst parking problems EVER. Also we have some of the worst handicapped access EVER, which is really bad because we have a lot of wheelchair-bound patients, especially amputees, that come to the hospital. Plus, it's a freakin' hospital - hello, let's make it accessible (don't get this social worker riled up, she will advocate your A).

Parking is so bad that I have been parking on a residential side street, until I was told that as of January 2009 I could get towed for doing that. Probably parking would not be such a problem if I got to work at 7:30, but I am not a fast getter readyer, which any roommate of mine (including Tim) can attest to. So I get there at 10 to 8:00, when all the spots in the reasonably close lots are taken, and you're now forced to park in, no joke, Minnesota. So I've never parked in the Minnesota lot, and am not sure where it is, but have heard murmurings of a shuttle that runs to and from the hospital and the Minnesota lot. I find a spot in this tiny little lot way in the middle of nowhere, after having searched for Building 6 (supposedly near Minnesota lot) for 10 minutes and finally deciding that between Buildings 5 and 7 will have to do. Why number if you're not going to keep the buildings in numerical order? Oh right, Federal Government.

There is no sign of a shuttle, or other employees that could point me in the right direction. It is 10 degrees. I am wearing my really cute silver flats with the convenient decorative cutouts for snow to seep through. I can't even see the main hospital. More background: the VA grounds are HUGE. We're talking acres, including a national cemetery and post-Civil War era buildings back from when the VA was the one of the first Soldier's Homes. I start walking and hark!, there is the medical center. The road is icy, the paths are impassable with piles of snow blocking sections of sidewalk, and I am trying to get there as quickly as possible. Just when I feel like I am getting closer, I realize that stinkin' Lake Wheeler is between me and ever regaining the use of my toes again. Oh yeah, there's a lake, with swans and stuff. As I start to make my way around the lake, I slip and fall right on my butt. I shake it off and keep walking, almost flagging down the VA police as they drive by so I can get a ride to the door.

Needless to say, I was late, cold, and grumpy when I finally got to work, 25 minutes late (except I totally count my work arrival as the moment my car touches VA grounds). Even grumpier when I realized that my cell phone was nowhere to be found. Maybe some kind soul will turn it in when they find it in the Spring thaw.