It's been one of those days ...

A wander up to the Hardware Store turned out to be more than just a simple exercise of contributing the economic growth of Australia. After purchasing a few bits and bobs for the house, I was plodding back through the car park (to catch the Bus back to home) when I realised that I did not have my wallet. No drama here, I am notorious for leaving this Devil's folder behind. Until now, I had always managed to find it quickly enough. But this time I surpassed myself in the space of a mere 100 metres or so with my losing proficiency. No matter where I looked I could find the thing! Not that there was many places for it to go a missing. Take my word: no bushy bushes, no drains, no hidden crevices, and no dogs on the loose who may mistake the wallet for a small piece of rump steak. As is the case in our modern Society, half of my life lives in the wallet (the other half in coffee and chocolate shops). I have the usual roll call of detritus such as credit/debit cards, eftpos card, driver's licence, Medicare, DVD rental card, MYKI (our abominably expensive new transport ticketing system thingy that still does not work), half a dozen Metcards (that do work on our public transport system) plus a host of other smaller plastic bits and loot of $40. Mind you, I once left the wallet on a Country Train and by the time I realised I had lost it the Train was well on its way to Swan Hill some 338 kilometres/210 miles to north of where I live - about as far as you can go on our country train network. Fortunately, a kindly Conductor found it and telephoned me to this effect near on midnight (I had no idea at that time where I had left the wallet). I met the Train on its return the next day and the wallet was returned unmolested. From that event the Conductor and I became friends and I often see him as I travel about the countryside and occasionally we meet 'on the rails' for a Beer or two (off duty - he is - of course).

But this time I had done it - but where could the wallet be in the 100 metres between check-out and the moment I realised it was divorced of me? The staff at the Hardware Store was fantastic with their help and could not have done more. The kindly Policeman, to whom I reported the loss, was equally as kind though bluntly honest, "Mate, you won't recover it!" was his terse but logical advice. I suspect someone may have seen me either drop the wallet as I missed putting in my pocket (I've done that a few times but never seem to learn) and scooped it up. Or, I left it on the counter as I sorted out my hardware booty and has likewise been picked up, the grabber thinking Christmas is in July. Though in my case with my bank balance it'd be a pauper's Christmas.

No matter, no point in getting upset. So, upon sheepishly plodding home, I duly telephoned all the people I needed in order to cancel cards etc and went through the 'hilarious' process of getting new cards issued. I mean, 'Press button 1 for x, Press button 2 for y, Press button 3 for you've got to be joking, Press 4 for you silly bastard, Press 5 for instructions on how to press buttons etc.' right through the pressing of most prime numbers. Importantly, as I have discovered, don't ever forget to press the # key after you have tapped in ALL the relevant numbers in strict order, least you start the process all over again! It took me just on 5 hours to deal with 5 cards that gave all sorts of functions, some I did not even realise I could have used. I was very alarmed about what some of these card providers knew about me and what others did not know about me. Too, they always seemed to want to know more details - one questioner wanted to know if I had a criminal record?! To whit my reply was I might soon have one because of your questions! In fact, it was that once only did I actually speak to another human being. I was so thrilled when I spoke to that person I nearly burst out in tears with gratitude and was tempted to quote some 'cheerful passages' from Shakespeare's sonnets. I cannot imagine how the elderly or the computer illiterate could cope with navigating their way through the miasma of 'Customer Help Lines' or via websites that appeared to be have come out of the Rubik's Cube Design School. In the end I pretty much had all matters dealt with despite a thumping headache from near incomprehension and sore fingers from typing in so much data into on-line replacement/lost/stolen forms!

Phew ... time to have snack on this dreary July day before tackling the dramas of lesser cards, so to speak. Some tomato soup (homemade) from the previous night was left over to heat up - that will do and I was sure I'd feel a lot better as a result. I had a Bruce Springsteen CD blasting away in the background to soothe my angst. Ah! There is a Crossword uncompleted from a few days ago that beckoned also. So, I sat down in the small kitchen at home, with weak afternoon sunlight struggling to get through the slow fluid of glass paned by a window. In between slurps of soup and scribbling onto the Crossword, I shrugged my shoulders at the strange play of this day. In the context of life, small beer really and this mollified my mood by placing things in context. Yet, as I was resignedly supping on the soup, my glasses slipped off my face and plopped into the coriander sprinkled red sludge. I sat back and roared with laughter and then, such is the way of things lately, I thought here is my photograph for today's blip! A quick dash into the study to power up the Camera, then back to the kitchen and a few snaps taken, grateful for image stabilising. Again, this was my own fault. I have a habit of peering over the top of my glasses when reading or doing Crosswords in a pathetic attempt to impersonate the enquiring mind of a Perry Mason (showing my age here as anyone under 40 probably has not heard of Perry Mason). I cannot think of a modern day equivalent, except Perry would give those slick Lawyers on 'Law and Order' a run for their money, though he does not dress as colourfully. Of course, having proper reading glasses or even bi-focals may have prevented the slippage in the first place but such is this male's vanity. Needless to say I ended up having toast and jam instead reckoning not even I could mess that up supported by a stiff glass of Bourbon.

I think in future I shall get a wallet with a chain and clip this chain to a stud on my tongue. The worse that could happen would be to swallow my wallet knowing it would exit stage bum some hours later.