February 26th 2017
Today I lost an envelope containing €400. I went out to get travel money for my ski trip next month, but when I got back to my house and went to look for the money I couldn’t find it. When I got home I just dropped my bags on the floor of the bedroom and got into bed. In my defence, I did go to sleep at 5am last night.
But, I should’ve been more careful.
About an hour ago I phoned my mum to tell her that I couldn’t find the money. I knew I’d put the money in her handbag to begin with, and I was hoping that I’d just left it there. It wasn’t in her handbag. It wasn’t in my bedroom at her house. It wasn’t in my bag at my house. It wasn’t in my bedroom at my house.
I wasn’t worried at this point, I was more confused. I knew that I couldn’t’ve conceivably lost it, and that the envelope had to be somewhere.
And it was… somewhere.
I found it in the pages of a book. When we were shopping yesterday I bought a load of books from the library, and I guess I put my euros in one of the books for safe keeping. Looking back, that seems like a very me thing to do. I’d just forgotten that I’d done it. Panic over.
I wouldn’t like to think about what would happen if I’d lost €400.
I’d probably cry.
Until tomorrow, I’d definitely cry.