I never thought my life would become so depending on such an object that I could leave it in my pocket till I need it. That is until tonight at work. Half my night I was a wheezy, winded, fat, middle-aged, balding white dude on track to getting his work done early on a Friday morning. That was until after lunch. Really, I was fine all the way up until then, walking around, talking to my associates, freight team associates all the way up until lunch, and all the while I was tapping my left knee when no one was looking, checking for that inhaler. Making sure it was still there, that I somehow hadn’t managed to forget it. Except this is where I went colossally wrong. I transferred it to my jacket pocket because I bumped it a few times and I got scared I might break it in my pocket. Well, my jacket hangs on the cart I’m using for that day, my cart sits in flooring usually. In this store that’s aisle 3. Approximately 75 feet from the front door of the store. Meanwhile, right when I think all is good, and I might be able to get a second bight in a row without having to use my inhaler, is when it struck. And it struck fast. In a matter of 30 seconds, I went from all hunky dory, to a wheezing, coughing fool all the way in the other side of the building. All the way down in the very far back corner. As far from the front door as I can possibly get, without walking through 8 inches of concrete cinder block walls. In that 30 seconds I started to wheeze, I started to pat my pockets down like a goddamn fool and that’s when it struck me. I couldn’t find my inhaler, and I straight up panicked. In my foolish anxiety-driven panic, I blanked on where my inhaler was. Then I remembered and started walking back to the other side of the store. When I hit the middle racetrack, it felt like the entire aisle stretched itself out to miles (when it was probably 500-600 feet to my cart.