Skip to main content

Losing it.

Besides the obvious and infuriating irony of the situation, I think part of why losing my wallet upset me as much as it did was due to my long, frustrating habit of losing things. Usually at bad times. Or so my brain tells me.

It probably comes as no surprise that I'm a bit absent-minded, harebrained even. A nutty professor type (crossed with strains of Hunter S. Thompson and Joan Didion, or so I console myself). That I lose things--lots--is just part of my shtick. But it's really fucking annoying most of the time.

Recently I've lost three-ish things that were of moderate to significant importance to me,

  1. the aforeblogged wallet
  2. my housekeys (which also had a copy of my bike key and the little scanny thing for the gym)
  3. my bike light (that thing was badass).

Sigh. It's just frustrating. And sucky. And it keeps happening. I wonder if it's a problem of personal organization? Or stuff? Probably. But that would prolly require some organization on my part to get myself organized into re-organizing things better. That's too much effort.

I could blame it on not having my own (contiguous) space. Like, the opposite phenomenon--the stalagmite of clothes that accumulates on my desk chair every week--happens for that reason: I head for bed and take off my pants and shirt and stuff and fall into bed/sleep. If my actual changing area weren't some 40ft away, behind a door, around a corner, maybe this stuff would end up somewhere at least half sensible? Hm.

Anyway, thought I'd gripe randomly about this some more. I've found the more I blog, the more traffic I get. I like getting traffic because it makes me feel loved. I like feeling loved.

Anyways, have a great weekend, everyone!

Comments

Other things that might interest you...

Oatmeal is tasty.

{slurps up berry-oatmeal-deliciousness} Indeed. I need to work on rebuilding a morning schedule. I can be zombie-like enough that I'll waste a perfectly good morning, and have often slept through many. And, really, it's such a useful time of day.

I could do worse.

Lord knows I really want to rant right now; I've been angrier, sure, and I've felt more hurt, but the temptation is there to tear into this guy. But I'm supposed to be a grown up. He's supposed to be my friend--and I do care about that. I'm not supposed to even be taking these things so seriously anymore. So why the fuck am I? So I was dating a guy recently; we had four dates. I thought we were really starting to click. I'll admit it--I'd even begun to like the guy. Not quite like-like him, but there was a definite fondness growing. As I was learning more about him, I was liking what I learned more and more. We seemed to have chemistry, too. It was pretty nice how I could talk about smart stuff with him without either a) feeling like I was supposed to be talking down to him or b) feeling like he had to challenge me to a contest of who was the smartest fuck in the room. It was natural, intelligent, fun conversation. And that was really cool. I was defin...