Lubed Lips Lamentation

Over the weekend I attended the twice-yearly state business meeting of a group I belong to. Friday afternoon I rode with some friends halfway across the state to the Lake of the Ozarks. The meeting started Saturday morning and ended (with breaks for lunch and dinner) ten hours later. On Sunday there were four more hours of business before we adjourned until the fall.

This is my seventh year attending these meetings.  The tables we sit at are cramped.  It's an inconvenience having my purse with me, so I've developed a system for carrying my essential things.  I put all the manuals and papers I need in a tote bag, which goes underneath the table at my feet.  In my front left jeans pocket I put my room key and lip balm (because I need for my lips to feel lubricated at all times). My cell phone goes in a back jeans pocket.

Saturday morning before the meeting started I ate breakfast in the hotel's restaurant, then took my purse back to the room. I checked to make sure I had my key in the pocket, then walked down to the conference room where the meeting was held. I was almost there when I realized my lips felt dry, so I reached into the pocket for the lip balm.

It wasn't there.  That was a problem.

I backtracked all the way to my room, thinking the small tube could have fallen out of my pocket along the way. Nothing. And then, because I didn't have access to it, my lips needed lubrication even more.  It was all I could think about. 

I was so desperate that I thought that perhaps putting some of the beeswax hand salve I keep in the zipper pocket of the purse would moisten my lips. When I opened the pocket, guess what I discovered?  The lip balm. 

I must have applied it after breakfast and automatically put it back in the purse.  Life was good.