My quest to keep my wallet until the day I died came to an end last Sunday. Here is the rundown. I was watching the New England game around 10 o’clock in the morning and had my door open to let the fans push the air out. I dozed off on the couch during the game. I was awakened at one point to find a lady in my front room milling about. I asked her what she wanted and she asked me if I wanted her to clean my house. I refused the offer and told her to be on her way. What I did not discover until about 8 hours later, when I wanted to go to the gym and started looking for my wallet, was that she swiped one of my most coveted possessions, the wallet I have had for 11 years. Fucking bitch.
I don’t know what to say, but theft has hit me hard. Of course I want everything back including the 3,000 baht, my credit cards, and my driver’s license, but if she just would have left the wallet, it wouldn’t have hit me so deep. I was even going to do a photo essay of my wallet titled “Hope I Never Lose My Wallet” that would document it going from the completely haggard and homeless-looking state that it is currently in to having it repaired and reassembled by the seamstress that lives around the corner from me. Looks like that idea is gone forever. Along with my fucking wallet. Fuck me.