Only it turns out it's not that brown wallet, but the first one I lost a while back. I knew it was round here somewhere. This is a... well, a marginally good thing. Current lost wallet had about $50 cash in it, a Metro card with another $25 on it, and of course a functional debit card. Found wallet has about $4 cash but all the cards I'd acquired and hadn't gotten around to replacing. I think it actually has my official state ID, which would be a major hassle avoided. I know it has my active Fordham ID which means I no longer have to sweet-talk guard to get onto campus. The one I just reported lost, but I may see if I can de-deactivate it. If I can't... well, it's the same design as this year's card. I doubt I'll even get stopped. It's not like I have to swipe it unless I'm using it at a computer, and I'm disinclined to give my school the fee to have it replaced, just because I'm feeling ornery.
So this is actually a good thing. It would be a significantly better thing if I'd worked out it was the old wallet before running to the supermarket right before closing. Meaning I ran into the woman who pressures me for money sometimes and to a student + their parent, got all the food I needed including biscuits for tea, waited in line, and... no functioning debit card. Holding people up. Having to traipse up those stairs, sans biscuits or ground beef or, perhaps most importantly, chocolate. (Another periodic benefit of lacking a Y chromosome is sometimes you have an almost physiological need for processed cocoa beans, aside from other thoroughly-unpleasant reminders of your continued fertility.) All because I was such an Anderson, I couldn't work out the difference between one brown leather wallet and another.
This is the point when I start letting the profanity fly.
What this means in practical terms is that I have truly crappy food and not much else on hand. Frozen stuff, canned processed food that I can just dump in a dish and heat up. It's bad for you in the long run but better than letting your bloodsugar crash when you quite literally can't force yourself to make anything better for you or more involved. There's a reason I'm in psychotherapy, you know. And it's only for a day. Absolute worst case scenario, I don't find the wallet, and come Monday morning I can go to the bank and pick up a new card. I have a decent amount of that. Also some of those peanut butter cracker stuff, two small bags of popcorn, maybe a cup of yogurt or two left. No protein, though, and very little fruit or vegetables. I'm not going to starve in the next thirty-six hours, but as stressed I am generally, not having food I actually like on hand isn't going to be pleasant.
But I feel like such a fucking Anderson, it's not even funny. Because I can't get life together so much these days that I can't hold onto my wallet to save my life. It's a combination of being too stressed and worn out to keep the bedroom properly cleaned, and being too worn out to actually put things away in their proper place. This is baseline adult functionality, though, and while I know I can replace what I need to, the fact that I can't handle this is truly pissing me off and making me rather ready to yell at the world.
On the plus side, I stumbled across not one but two pictures of wee!Sherlock with a stuffed bumblebee. That's at least something.