Y-PAC? Why Not!

Who knew convincing the world of your identity would require not just the first and second, but the third degree.

As I rolled out of bed this morning, I felt well-rested from the Labor Day weekend and ready to tackle the type of week I have grown accustomed to over the last year. With planning season commencing at the office and classes kicking back in gear at GW, I was fully prepared to handle my schedule – which metaphorically – is the equivalent of taking your pocket calendar and inserting it in a blender. Perhaps with a banana, for added hilarity.

You want to make God laugh? Tell Him about your plans.

Because just when you think you’ve got in under control, you can expect to spend your morning dodging wrenches. My first one came at 6:49 this morning. Ready to head out the door to get a jump on my Inbox from Hell (exaggerating here – it’s not that bad, maybe from Wisconsin or parts less fiery), I do the standard Young Professional Accessory Check (Y-PAC).

Car keys – Go Launch.
Cell phone – Go Launch.
Cool shades – Go Launch.
Wallet – Postpone Launch…

Where is my wallet? With a new apartment, there hasn’t been enough time for mysterious hiding locations to crop up. It’s too early for my wallet to fall deep within the couch or underneath a stack of assorted papers and magazines. Heck, I can still tell you everything on my dresser at this point. While this may limit the number places to look for said wallet, it makes it all the more disconcerting when my search turns up little more than my set of Monroe Project hockey pucks and that syllabus I spent last night looking for. As a last resort, I dialed Katie, her commute already in progress.

Looks like my wallet is going to school today.

Now my careless leaving of the wallet in her car last night completely alters any morning routine I had hoped to maintain. Without any cash, I was forced to make a pit stop at Wegman’s to visit my friend Coinstar. Additionally, in the immediate departure frenzy, I managed to forget to complete Y-PAC, leaving my lanyard w/ID badge hanging on the closet doorknob. For most this wouldn’t be a problem. I’ll just go to the front security desk and get a temp badge. All I have to do is show my photo ID-

Uh oh.

Ok, so no photo ID. At least I know the woman who works there by first name and she’ll recognize me. Hey – wait a minute – that’s not her – who’s this other woman?

Turns out, in this age of Homeland Security, proving one’s identity is rather difficult. Without an ID badge or wallet (rife with identification documents), I had to resort to answering questions about my employment. Here are some helpful things to know if you are ever stuck in a similar situation…

• Social Security Number (it pays to fill out application forms correctly, easy one)
• Office Phone Number (this could have been easy, if I EVER DIALED MY OWN NUMBER. Her suspicion grew here when I hesitated.)
• Office/Cubicle Number (apparently, it would have helped to know this as well. The doubt grows…)
• Somebody else walking through the lobby to vouch for your identity.
  

Who would have thought it would be that hard to get into work?