Tonight I was getting ready to go to my usual Wednesday step aerobics class at the Y, and when I was leaving the office, I could NOT find my membership card anywhere. (I know, you're thinking, it's the YMCA, how militant could they possibly be about us having our membership cards, but I tell ya, it's like the brute squad around there.) I looked in all the pockets in my backpack, even got to the point of taking everything out of my pack again thinking it had fallen to the bottom - yeah, there was nothin'. I went anyway - not about to let a little thing like a membership card keep me from getting my sweat on. Upon arriving cold and tired back at my apartment after class tonight, guess what was wedged in my front door? Of course, my membership card, complete with my grinning countenance on the front. Hey, my card! How nice, I thought. Then I had that other thought - that little voice way in the back of your head that says, well, who exactly put that card there? I mean yes, my picture is on it, but no, my address is not. Has this person seen me around? If not, how did they figure out where I lived? The dogs might have picked it up for me, but I'm certain they would have eaten it - Simone anyway, Claire might have put it up in the door, but without thumbs, she wouldn't have been able to securely wedge it in like I found it ... I'd like to shut myself up and just take it as a random act of kindness ... but it's a bit of a mystery, isn't it?