I have an incredible ability to lose my personal belongings
I've never been very attached to material possessions, don't get me wrong. I'm not rich, and I certainly value the hard work I do to buy something, but I've always had that yearning to possess and the boredom of having, something that says much more about my desire to experience new things than to accumulate possessions.
It's been a week since I lost my wallet. Aside from the blocked cards and the hassle of going to the DMV to get a new physical one, I'm not exactly annoyed about it. Of course, I want my wallet back, but finding it isn't exactly a life priority right now; I have more important things to do, but this made me reflect.
Wow, I lose a lot of things in my daily life, don't I?
As I write this post, I'm waiting for the delivery of a new vintage Casio watch for my daily use, after losing one last year and another watch of a brand I don't remember the year before last.
I buy socks in packs of 6 every 3 months because they mysteriously disappear; maybe I can blame my cats for that.
My apartment is quite small, where do all these things go?
I won't die if I don't have a watch, I don't care about expensive things, I've had the same two pairs of sneakers for 4 or 5 years, but where's my lighter? Damn, things keep disappearing, ceasing to exist in my world. If I reflect on it, I come to the conclusion that my entire life fits in a shoebox.
Maybe that says something about me. Maybe I'm absent-minded. Maybe I move too quickly from one thing to another to notice when something is left behind.
Or maybe it's just proof that I was never really made for possessing things.
They pass me by just as I pass them by.
And, deep down, it's all right.