Perhaps I am getting old? Or developing Altzheimers? Or just plain not paying as much attention to my surrounds as I should.
The car keys and house keys? Why, doesn’t every one manage to misplace them more than once? Admittedly, spending more than a week not knowing where one passport and my ID card had vanished was a bit disconcerting. Turning up in my suitcase pocket when packing for the next trip, the memory of tucking them in when leaving UK customs flashed bright and clear in my head. And we will not talk about getting all the way to Folkstone only to find that my wallet had not made the trip with me.
So why is it now, when I am in a hurry to get on the road that my wallet seems to have taken a walk? Checking in all the usual suspect locations, nothing. Not in the living room nor the front hall. Not in the mess of my bedroom or yesterday’s backpack.
I have tried to be consistent since my return from München (all what four days?) and return it to the same place every time. Front pocket of the backpack.
Disgusted I heave it off the bed to search among the bedclothes. The penny drops. The backpack was too heavy to be empty. Three pockets, front two nothing significant. The laptop pocket? Heavy black wallet in the bottom.
Somedays – I am not sure if I am winning or losing.