My missing contact lens reappeared last night. It had been hiding under the nail clipper in the medicine cabinet. How did it get there? I have no idea. Did St. Anthony of Padua take pity on me because I no longer have a source of chocolate-hazelnut croissants, deep-fried artichokes, or veggie pupusas? Or did the lens escape from its case in the night to wander and collapse after traversing a few inches along the glass shelf? I will never know. My most plausible theory is that the lens was stuck on the cap of my case, and flew off when I unscrewed said cap with too much energy. But I don't remember having much energy at all when I did that. It's a mystery.
If Anthony, my favorite saint, did have something to do with it, I'd like to respectfully point out that my favorite Japanese silk coaster has been missing for two years now and it's been about six months since my favorite comb disappeared. Just sayin'.
I'm still waiting to hear if I'm out $70 for the replacement lens I ordered on Friday. Not having to pay that would be a miracle.