Which is to say I've been tearing it out over two days now - figuratively, that is. But the lost is finally found, and a plan is growing to prevent the next repeat. I won't guarantee all the repeats of course, but they won't be exactly like this one... which happens to be a repeat itself, if a little more drastic than the others.
Habits change, for all kinds of reasons. I've been working on the alternative to a decades' long habit for a few months now. I now know that when I count on the new habit being foolproof, there's still work to be done. But let's go back to the start of all this.
Back when I was working from my car as a courier, aka since '85 till retirement, I needed a way to keep my driver's license, credit card for gas, and all the other important little things both close at hand and hidden while I was out of the vehicle. I started buying the first in a series of pocketbooks, big enough for checks, cards, and cash, plus a few important photos of family. Unlike a man's wallet, I needed the length for holding a checks pad. Obviously that was many years ago. I still have checks, but I think I've used two since we moved back to MN. Everything is plastic or cash these days. I don't do Venmo or whatever non-contact money transfer programs are out there. The closest I come is giving a card number while ordering online or over the phone. Otherwise my regular creditors and debtors do the ACH thing.
I discovered ways to hide it from view in the car. All my cars for the last couple decades have had black carpet and upholstery, so that's a start. It's easy to carry when needed. Nearly all my needed cards fit in their slots, though that lately has pointed out a need for replacement, since the slots are separated by fabric, and a couple cards refuse to slide in peacefully. There are times I get frustrated enough to poke the small end in instead of the wide one, but at least a zipper keeps them in place enough until the next use. I do have a plan to replace it, but that just got moved up a few months... like to now. Or tomorrow or such. The hunt will be on.
Things I needed while driving that didn't go in the pocket book went in the nooks and crannies in the car. Extra fast food napkins (clean) went in the door pockets for quick use. Nail clippers, chap sticks, cough drops, pills, even a tiny hairbrush went in the center console. There was room for my camera when I went out shooting, or my phone when I needed access, though now driving without bluetooth means I don't bother to remove it from its trap in a pants pocket under the seat belt, unless Steve is in the car to answer it for me. New laws these days.
It's not that I didn't have any purses. I do, a couple ugly old clunkers that were always good for on the airplane to keep those necessities handy instead of way up in the overhead bin. Otherwise I didn't use them. Then last Christmas I was given a gorgeous purse, in bold stripes of pink, red, purple, green, yellow, blue, orange, and whatever else could be added to the blend. For simplicity, as well as favoritism, I refer to it as the pink purse. It holds everything, with room to spare for a book, water bottle, snacks, and more. A front pocket keeps keys and my tiny flip phone handy. And yes, the pocketbook fits in nicely... when I remember to put it in of course. Because the old habit still reigns when I'm in a hurry. Plus when loaded it's heavy. These days that's a literal pain. In fact even the pocketbook alone is a pain as well.
So what happened? Well, over the weekend we had a small road trip to a grandchildren's birthdays party. I took the big purse because it held a bunch of stuff I needed to take, including the birthday cards. The pocketbook was inside, not just because my driver's license is in it, but I knew we were going past a place with the cheapest gas around, and prices had just gone up so I wanted to be sure of the best deal available.
I filled the tank after the party, and took the pocketbook inside with me to buy a lottery ticket, just because. Upon returning to the car I put it somewhere......... And that was the problem.
It was cold when we returned home and together we hauled inside only what we absolutely had to. I was still chilled from gassing up in a stiff breeze over 30 miles earlier, even with the heater functioning well. Steve had to maneuver his walker from backseat to house, now that his arthritic hip is acting up as much as my shoulder is, so I grabbed quickly and randomly, except for the pink purse which was not a random choice at all. At that point I believed the pocketbook was inside. Plus the colors are very visible in the car, should anybody want to be tempted.
Fast forward to the next day when I got a call to drive a friend to the ER. I grabbed the purse, made sure that a book I was partly through and a snack I could actually eat (as opposed to, say, the birthday party food) were inside it, and headed over. We got out of there after dark and in the snow, and spent the least possible needed time getting things back in the car. My pink purse just was tossed on the back seat. Its snack was eaten, its book a little more read, and off we went, straight home for the patient. I'd thought to order something from Arby's that Steve had been saying sounded good enough to try, but only after I dropped my rider off. I pulled over about a block away from their house, a spot with no street lights, and went to dig my pocketbook out of the purse so it would be handy for the drive-through.
It wasn't there.
I checked the door pockets, where it occasionally goes. Nope. A couple more locations. Also nope. I felt around the back seat where the purse had landed in case it had fallen out. Nope. Under the front seats in case it had both fallen out AND slide forward during a stop. Nope. Nada. SO.... no Arby's tonight.
Had I even brought it? I recalled getting everything lined up on the counter ready to go but my visualization held no recollection of the black pocketbook. I called Steve to let him know I was a: on my way and b: minus my pocketbook. He offered to check the usual places until I arrived.
I could give you details of all the places checked, quadruple checked, and even then rechecked, including the least likely ones to ever host a pocketbook. I won't. It continued through the evening, including through the car in the dark of the driveway. I could describe an evening worrying instead of sleeping, the plans for how to deal with the worst case, starting with a new copy of my driver's license so I could go to the credit union and prove I was the one needing new plastic, etc., etc. Searching never stopped, even after I decided it would do no good until we had actual daylight in which to be back to search the car.
Memories were searched - when was the last time that ...? Then they were overwritten with "Well, maybe I..." or "Could we have....?" Nothing availed. What I did manage to do very successfully was convince myself that I couldn't trust my own memory. I knew I had it at the gas station. I knew I didn't have it the next afternoon and - oops - had been driving without it to and from the ER. Good thing I don't drive to attract the cops' attention!
Emotionally it was hair pulling time. I'd think of another improbable place not checked, or one checked three times already just to be sure it wasn't there for the fourth check. Clothing had pockets checked, regardless of whether it might fit. Clean laundry on the foot of the bed was hung in case the pocketbook had inadvertently slid or crawled under. Nutty, right? The final decision was that once I decided I could stand the cold enough to go out in the morning I'd bundle up and take advantage of the daylight and do a full car search. The interior would still be black on black, but daylight at least lets shapes emerge. After all, the black carpet isn't pristine and most of the dirt it holds isn't actually black, so that helps. Front of car including glove box and trash bag... nope. Under seats, front and back sides, nope. Backseat under the sign left from No Kings Day? Nope. (I mean, it could have slid under and then somehow shrunk in thickness so the sign stayed level over the seat, right? LOL)
Finally it was the tough one. I'd been putting it off because if I opened the hatch, the hydraulics would spring it up, but then my bad shoulder would have to reach its top, which even with me on tip-toes is a really big and painful ask, just to close it afterwards. The other shoulder isn't as painful, but neither is it capable of even reaching the top of the open hatch to pull it down because I gave up trying to force it's muscles to do that knowing it dislocates for sure each time. I either avoid it when possible or try to wrangle assistance. I'd checked it anyway in the dark last night, feeling around with my hand, reaching into bags since we put the reusable ones in there for when we go shopping. I knew it hadn't been completely emptied after the party, and there were at least two bags with contents to come in sitting back there. I lifted one out... and my pocketbook was right under where it had been.
I'm sure it was laughing at me! I have no idea how it got there, or when. I don't even care any more. But I can quit pulling out hair and start putting it back in. Emotionally, of course.
Oh, and the lottery ticket earned us its usual: just the place it had been sitting in, waiting for us to recycle it and make room for another one, maybe next month. I can live with that. I won't need it for the next pocketbook... which will be white. Or cream! Or pink! Anything but black!!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment