Well, that's an exaggeration, but it's in the name of...um...a mildly ironic play on words necessitated by a lack of anything cleverer. Totally.
So I got asked on a really lovely date for last night. Nothing too crazy. Just grabbing gelato in Chinatown and walking the National Mall. Kinda sweet, really; certainly a lovely way to meet and get to know someone, yeah?
But I'd lost my wallet.
Of course, I'm too proud/unsmart to think to ask someone to lend me cash (like, 3 different people all said they would've), and of course I look everywhere. So I got to look kind like a lameass. I mean the guy seems to be pretty understanding but...still. I feel like a jerk all the same.
What sucked was I couldn't even buy myself a pizza to console myself! How unfair is that!? You know, in a totally it-was-prolly-for-the-best-you-didn't-you-fat-asshole kinda way.
But then I found it. I found my damn wallet. In my gymbag. In the pocket I normally would have put it in if I were to have put my wallet somewhere in that bag. Granted, I've been using all of three different bags this week (and thoroughly tore two of them inside out, twice), but still...why didn't that perfectly obvious possibility occur to me?
Of course it does me no good to complain. And, really, I'm not entirely ungrateful. As I lay in bed this morning, I dreaded how I was going to replace my various things (all three of them) that I keep in my wallet. And when. Oh, Lord, that woulda been tough-ish.
And, hey, on the plus side, this is the first time I've blogged from my desk (verse my bed) in I don't know how long. Yup. My room got a little bit neater cuzza this incident. And for that we can all be grateful.