Last night I was really just tired and wanting to crash out. Ended up passing out on my sofa with not much of interest on the television except this boy with some horrible disease that made his bones grow all gargantuan like.
S called and woke me up to tell me about hooking up with some Italian boi in his office toilet. He is so breaking up with T as soon as he gets his new place. And good riddance.
After the phone call, I motivated myself to move from sofa to bed. I slept the sleep of the dead, even after having napped on the couch. Obviously my brain hates me and just wants to hibernate until all the drama is passed. Not that I'm complaining. I like sleep, sleep is nice. In fact, I wish I were asleep now. Hm.....
Anyway, this morning as I was getting my bag ready to go to work I discovered my wallet was missing. I checked everywhere and started to worry. It's not like I work in the best area in London. Did I still have my wallet after lunch? Had I left it in my pocket? Had it fallen out on the street? Had some jerk found it and now charged thousands of dollars to my two cards, draining my bank account and sending me into debt? And what was I going to do without my wallet and with all my accounts frozen when I go to Italy for N's wedding in a week, OH MY GOD!
...
Of course my wallet was at work, buried under a pile of papers, on my desk, where I'd left it.
Stupid wallet.
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