If you want to see me cry, call me Jane

There are some things that I live in constant fear of becoming. I know, I know you are going to try to tell me it is unlikely that I will become a crack whore slinging tricks on the corner, a midget, a cast member of Jersey Shore, or Gary Busey's love child but I assure you, life can take quick turns and *BOOM* you find your self offering a trucker named Bubba a choice between purple or green condoms. I try to not discount that we are ALL just a few life decisions from being what we promised ourselves as children we would never be. (i.e. I made one wrong turn and now I am a therapist). There is a list of things I fear, but this weekend I left home without my wallet and my biggest fear of them all became a very real possibility.

It was the most stressful 4 hours and 32 minutes of my life. Not having an ID means that if I get kidnapped and tossed in the park like bag of garbage, I will become a JANE DOE. Can you think of anything sadder? There are all the normal reasons that this is saddest thing ever:

• It means you have most likely had a REALLY BAD day
• Your family has no idea where you are
• You are probably dirty
• Your favorite jeans are most likely ripped
  
• Your entire name only has 2 syllables
• If your bruises heal and you go out for a much needed beer, you may not get served without an ID
• Even though you may have done nothing wrong, you get a police sketch that gets printed in the papers so when your college professor is flipping through to find the Sudoku puzzle they catch a glimpse and think you are wanted for some horrible crime and mouth "I always knew it" to themselves.

These are all good reason for not being a Jane Doe, however, there is one, more terrifying possibility. It is totally possible that if you leave home without any ID and get kidnapped and your skull gets crushed in before you are dumped in the park like a bag of trash, the police may need make a clay model of your skull to recreate what you look like so your family may recognize you and claim your remains.

I challenge you to tell me there is something worse than having the last images your family and friends will remember of you looking like this.