Tell me, what can be more annoying than a lost wallet? First the realization, one of outright panic, followed by a frenzy of searching. Deep breathing and half hearted attempts at calming yourself down, followed by more sedate searching and retracing of steps. And then you face up to the truth: the wallet is lost. That uncomfortable feeling under your right buttock is no more, together with currency notes, an ATM card - modern banking's umbilical cord substitute, and several visiting cards - most of them unnecessary. Some soul searching. Why am I like this?? Why do I lose things so easily?
And then, the gradual return to normalcy, stalled by gnawing doubt. Aaaaah.. it's just a f***** wallet, man. Nothing is indispensable. But I loved that smell of old leather. Sigh.
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