Rats! I could say something else here but some of my sweet sisters read this blog and I wouldn’t want them to have to get past that word in order to read the rest of this. My current state of frustration is because I lost my sweet little change purse today. I didn’t have much money in it, but, alas, it also carried my bank card, a credit card and, the biggest loss of all, my metro pass. And I managed to do this on a Sunday when, unfortunately, the said bank and credit card company, not to mention the Toronto Transit folks are not available to cancel cards or, dare I even dream, replace my transit pass. Tra-la-Tra-la.
There’s nothing I can do about any of this now, including worrying. I am trying to look on the bright side of my carelessness, and be thankful that my health card and driver’s license were not in that little change purse. If that had been the case, I really would have been seriously bummed out right now. But, as it is, I do not have to deal with government bureaucracy. So that is, indeed, something to be relieved about, eh?
This was just pure carelessness on my part. When I left my cat sitting gig, I decided to take the change purse out of my backpack where it had lived quite happily and securely. I did this because I didn’t want to have to take the pack off in order to get on the bus or buy what I needed at the store — a stupid idea all around. Before I started my walk, I even thought about the possibility that I would lose that little purse. Hmmm, do you think I unconsciously made it happen?
I discovered its absence when I got to the store to buy some yogurt and a jalepeno pepper — not to be eaten together. I had one of those frantic — comic? — moments of emptying my pockets, searching through the backpack (where I knew it wasn’t) and then retracing my steps through the store. I knew in my gut that I had lost it. Now I had the additional problem of being a long walk from home and not having my pass and not having any change to put in the little box on the bus. When I got on, I told the driver my sad but true story. He gave me a wee smile which could have meant he didn’t believe a word I was saying or was just being a nice guy. As I sat on the hot, over-crowded bus, I thought that perhaps, just maybe, the change purse was sitting on the table where I had been cat sitting and those sweeties were there guarding it for me at that very moment. I thought it was not a good idea to cancel cards until I checked that out. So, there was nothing to be done, but come home, get some money and take the bus back across town, walk four blocks to the apartment and find that it wasn’t there at all. But the cats did appreciate a return visit all the same.
After all that, I decided there was nothing to do but take a taxi home, turn on the air conditioning and write this blog for what it’s worth. I do hate to lose things — anything — but I’m not going to ruin the rest of this day worrying about this. No, instead I’ll go chill the glasses so they’re ready for my fabulous martinis when Lynda arrives at 5.