My wallet was lost, but I didn’t know it, yet. It wouldn’t be the first time something was missing unbeknownst to me.
Nope. I had no idea until I went to buy that bottle of Scotch for my luvvah Saturday night and was ID’d. Yes, the ABC store was crowded, and no, the process of being ID’d at 40-something did not lessen the embarrassment that I would be saving myself some money and leaving empty-handed, feeling conspicuous… like everyone was staring at me.
I left empty-handed and baffled. No one stared. I’m not as interesting as I think I am, sometimes.
My wallet is small and holds a license, bank card, and Starbucks card. It stays in it’s usual place in my purse. When it’s not there, I have no idea where it is. Like Saturday night.
I checked pockets of coats and jeans and my satchel. I checked vehicles. I prayed for it to turn up.
Sunday as Steve and I drove to Fairfax for our son’s concert, I received a voicemail from a friend who had good news for me. He found my wallet.
It was such a relief to know it was found. Even better, his wife was going to bring it by that evening. She happens to be one of my favorite friends that I don’t see enough of these days in this season.
But Sunday night I saw her and grabbed TWO hugs and my wallet and felt thankful.
Thanks Chris and Misty! I love you both much. In all appropriate ways, of course.