As a creature of habit, and like most other humans, I often bumble through daily routines without much thought. It’s a nice brain-vacation when you can zone out, walk the same routes, drive the same paths, do the same set steps that you do day in and day out each day prior and after, but without thinking.

However, I’m finding that this perhaps is not always a good thing.

As I came slowly walking back to the third level of parking garage, emerging from the stairwell, I was more enraptured with what was on my iPod than where I was going. Sure I’ve mistakenly walked to the wrong floor instead. But who hasn’t right?

But this day, as I got closer to my normal parking spot, I noticed something amiss. Terribly amiss, to be true. My car wasn’t there. In fact it was no where in sight. I tried not to panic. I tried to be level headed. But thoughts of, “OH MY GOD THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR PARKING DOWNTOWN!” kept persistently rapping on my conscience. I knew it was highly implausable that someone would steal an entire car (let alone *mine*) in broad daylight in a parking garage with hundreds of other cars, most owned by doctors and surgeons in a tax bracket far surpassing mine. But as I frantically looked around, my car honestly was no where in sight. Crap.

As I stood motionless, unsure of what my next move was going to be (be it a full-on-hands-in-the-air-crazy-person-dance or what), it hit me.

You parked in a new parking spot this morning, on purpose, in order to break this apparently confusing monotony for once.

So no, my car was not the lone victim of a tragic act of violence. My personal property was not violated.

My dignity, on the other hand…