My wallet is gone, and I feel stupid for wanting to cry about it.
Oh who am I kidding? Of course I already cried about it.
I have ripped through the house, the car, every jacket and bag I have touched in the past 48 hours, all while begging St. Anthony to help a girl out, but to no avail. I have to face the fact that the wallet is gone. Crap.
The wallet that is missing is a little zip-top kind of thing that I can easily move from purse to diaper bag. I don't keep every card I own in there, just the ones I use EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.
Like my driver's license. And my check card. And my credit card.
The kids, bless their hearts, made an illustrated diagram of all the places we've been since I realized it was missing. Since Rob has been away for several days, I thankfully realized that we have been to very few places. I also had very little cash in the wallet. A tender mercy.
Another HUGE tender mercy? Rob comes back today.
I really have no idea where it could be. If someone stole it, they haven't used any cards from it because I've already been on the phone about that. And who steals a wallet just to NOT use it?
So I'm guessing I dropped it somewhere, although I cannot, for the life of me, think WHERE!
I've been thinking that I've been in need of a little more discipline in the Detachment from Worldly Goods department, and this shoe fits, my friends. Although, to be honest, this feels less like "a little discipline" and more like being taken out behind the woodshed with a switch I cut myself.
Today, I get to take the little ones to order Mama a new driver's license and get money out of the bank the old fashioned way. From a human teller.
Wish me luck.