Step 1: Don't Leave Your Passport in Another State

Sweat-Dripping Stress

At 4:30 PM today, I was already sticky with sweat from my parents' unbearably humid, non-air-conditioned Minnesotan home. I was kneeling on the carpet in front of my fan, re-packing my carry-on in preparation for my upcoming study abroad program in Senegal. It was 28 hours prior to my flight to Dakar when I was abruptly rammed with a deeply frightening realization: I did NOT know where my passport was.

A fresh flood of perspiration suddenly drenched my paralyzed body.

Where the F*** is my passport ??

I tore apart my room. I plowed through the suitcase I brought home from Colorado, creating a whirlwind of fluttering clothes. I gashed through the documents in my desk drawers, unearthed the depths of my backpack, and wrenched out books in my bookshelf. Tears surfaced at the creases in my eyes, stinging with the mixture of stress-sweat.

How the actual F*** did I forget my passport ??

I was stunned by my stupidity. I fell back onto the floor. While I sat amongst the rubble of my disaster, I admitted to myself that I had left my passport in my apartment at college, in a state that was more than 1,000 miles away from my crumbling body. I cursed Colorado. I cursed the the last week of packing and moving and relocating my livelihood. But mostly, I cursed myself.

A photo of the apartment I recently moved into.

I am the biggest dumbass to walk this planet.. but now I can't even walk this planet because I DON'T HAVE MY PASSPORT.

I was nearly ready to collapse from self-deprecation and desperation, when I forced myself to make moves. With shaking hands, I texted two trusted friends who were on campus for the summer.

"Alex, I'm freaking out. I left my f***ing passport in my apartment and my flight is tomorrow."

"Ayush, I'm screwed. I think my passport is at CC. WTF do I do??"

I didn't expect much from either of my friends because they both worked until 5 PM everyday and because FedEx's overnight shipping closed at 5. It was 3:45 Colorado time, and even if Alex and Ayush saw my texts and got out of work a few minutes early, they surely wouldn't find my passport in the mess of my locked apartment AND have time to ship it. I nervously clicked my phone off and let out a hearty sigh. Almost within the exhale, however, my phone brightened with a text from Alex.

"Oh damn. Where are you? Maybe I could overnight ship. I get off at 4 today."

And within a few more minutes, Ayush responded, offering to leave his lab to search my apartment. I beamed, graciously accepted both offers, and Facebook messaged the one person currently staying in my apartment. With crossed fingers that she was even in the apartment, or online to see the message, I begged that she let my two friends in. Her response of "Of course. I'm around all day, I'll let them in" popped up within minutes. Soon, Alex and Ayush were digging through heaps of boxes in my room.

However, I had no idea where my passport was.

I thought that maybe I had shoved it into my shoe-box of mementos at the end of the semester, when I had hurriedly packed up my dorm room. I instructed Alex to piece through the box. He found only old tickets and cards from friends. I sighed. Maybe it was in one of the folders found in the blue crate on my top shelf? I listened to Alex shuffle through the pages of notebooks and then report back "sorry, no". I anxiously bit my lip.

"The only other place I can imagine it, is in the bottom bin in the back of my walk-in closet."

Alex and Ayush were silent. I knew that they were staring at the mountain of belongings blocking the pathway to the bin I was talking about. The mountain of boxes belonged to the friend I was subletting from, her boyfriend, and myself. I pleaded my apologies and Alex and Ayush both agreed to get to the bin. I heard boxes being lifted, pushed aside, reconfigured. I heard Ayush lift the lid of the bin and I heard him dig through my mugs and power strips. For minutes, I listened to him searching. At last, he sighed,

"I don't think it's here, Sierra."

The photo of the bin that Ayush sent to me as proof that there were was no passport.

I felt worn out, confused, defeated. I racked my brain for memories, clues. I nearly said "forget it, thank you so much for what you've done" and I nearly hung up. But.. then I had a flash of an image, a memory of pocket-sized notebooks stacked together. I begged the boys to look for the small notebooks. Alex was convinced that those notebooks did not exist, and nearly crying, I pleaded that they did. I think my friends did one last dig, out of pity.. and when I heard Ayush almost call it quits, Alex's breathing quickened. And with the sweetest sigh of relief, he exclaimed

"It's here. Yep, it's here."

And he leaped off the floor, confirmed my mailing address, and drove it over to FedEx with half an hour to spare. I leaned back, swiped the sweat off my forehead, and threw a triumphant fist in the air.

I owe the world to my friends.

Thank You for Giving Me the World

The tragedy of today taught me:

• To be more mindful and more mature about my travel preparations.

• That absent-mindedness is an intense privilege, and that my own irresponsibility can reflect a sentiment of ungratefulness.

• Shocking humility. I am startled out of my arrogance over travel and deeply humbled knowing that I will make dumbass mistakes in the process.

• That I have the BEST friends that I will someday learn how to repay. That these opportunities are made possible by people like Alex and Ayush. That I have them, and many more, to thank for making my journey - and my life - worth sweating for.

Thank you Alex and Ayush for being beautiful friends to me. Thank you for making this all possible.

This photo of me and Alex was taken months ago, but our expressions in the photo perfectly resemble my relief and excitement when he found my passport today. Unfortunately, I don't have a photo with Ayush, but I thank him tremendously for his kindness and help.