I lost thirty bucks today. Not gambling. Not investing in some fly-by-night limited partnership. Not even as a down payment on a set of “Get Rich Quick” real estate investment DVD’s offered on a late-night infomercial.
No. Just lost it. Somewhere between asking for that much “cash back” at the drug store, and returning home without it. Wasn’t in the pocket; wasn’t in the money clip; wasn’t in any of the usual places where I put things and forget them and Kathy discovers them later. Just gone.
It’s maddening. I know my left hand was struggling mightily with a huge new dog bed (for foster lab Rufus), along with my daily gallon of milk—while my right grasped my cane. Yet the security camera clearly shows me being handed the money. I don’t remember that part; don’t remember putting down the cane, which I would need to do. But I believe the manager when I call her and she tells me that it is so.
I’ll keep looking. Meanwhile, I’m just glad the security camera didn’t catch me boosting that second gallon of milk I’ll need for tomorrow.