What's Not In Your Wallet?

I woke up this morning wondering what on earth I was going to write in this blog today. As you may recall from my prior rants, I have had a bit of a dry spell on ideas recently.

Today, though, I went to the store, and after that trip I decided I should probably just describe my day to you and you would be rolling on the floor laughing. Then I realized you wouldn't believe even I could have such a random day, so I changed my mind.

Nonetheless, my trip to the store reminded me of a painful and embarrassing trait that has dogged me for two decades. I lose things. Important things. I'm not talking about forgetting the cloth bags at the grocery store (which I also do). I'm also not talking about misplacing my cell phone or car keys because I failed to put them away (although I do that too). I'm talking about losing things that I actually need, right out of my hands and into the ether like the Universe has it out for me.

I am careful, believe it or not. I worry, too, about losing things. I can't figure out if I worry because I lose things, or if I lose things because I worry. I wish I knew. Either way, important items slip through my fingers with alarming regularity.

Let me give you some examples.

I once lost my passport in the airport in Auckland, New Zealand while I was trying to go home. From the departure tax desk to the gate, it was gone -- slid right out of my hands and vanished. Thankfully, it was recovered and I was able to return home without further delay.

I also lost my passport in the Sea-Tac airport after I had just arrived back in the country and was catching a flight home. Well, to spread the wealth on this, DH lost both our passports. These were never returned to us, as they were oddly enough sent to the State Department as "unclaimed" despite us calling daily for 2 weeks trying to get them back. *sigh* That is a story I may never understand.

Finally, I lost my entire wallet (but not my passport) in Edinburgh, Scotland. Of all the incidents, this one was possibly the worst because it left me dependent on Darling Husband for money on our vacation, and it kept us basically together all waking hours in case one of us wanted to buy something. Wow, that really stunk. No, "I'll go to this bookstore while you examine Scottish Kilts for the 3,000th time." Ironically enough, I still believe to this day that it was in a seamstress shop watching DH try on a kilt for size where my wallet waved goodbye to me and started its new life underneath a bookcase. I hope it is happy, wherever it is.

Well, needless to say, I do not leave the country without strapping my passport to my body with duct tape, leaving copies with all my travel companions and memorizing my credit card numbers just in case. Heck, with my luck, I should leave a credit card home and just memorize the numbers in case I get really stuck. I should mention, though, that the appropriate time to duct tape a passport to yourself is after you have shown it to the last person at the airport/departure place that needs to see it, but I have been known to lose things well before then, so I am working on a plan to have clear duct tape so I do not have to actually remove said passport. (Don't even bother telling me about passport holders, as the time DH lost the passports they were in just such a holder. Really, duct tape is the only way.)

This post was embarrassing, for sure. I think I'll stop now and crawl into a hole.