shitSHIT

Oh, well, turns out my bad mood was spot on, went to the pharmacy on my lunch break in the POURING rain to get my many medicinal needs that keep my body and brain puttering along, oh, what's this, i put my wallet on the counter and now it's not there, slight disbelief, followed by a rounding humiliation from the guy behind the till and the pharmacist insisting it was IMPOSSIBLE that someone stole my wallet, missing the point that far from asking them to carry out a lynching , I was merely stating the fact that my wallet had gone from the counter, and that of that there was no doubt. Obviously then I started to cry which was the bad bit, especially as they continued to insist that I was mental (and the crying made me look pretty mental) and that it was not possible that someone had taken my wallet (it was, they had).

Went to the police station, and got directed into a little room where you pick up a phone and report your crime! Was pretty surreal...they asked me if I wanted victim support... and if i wanted to be updated about my crime every 7 days?! seemed a bit much, aaanyway. Obviously then you start thinking 'maybe i am mad? maybe I never even had my wallet?' I do do mad things sometimes like put things down and totally forget. But no, for once I am sure. I looked in it and then felt a little nervous as I left it on the counter while i turned to replace something on the shelf, then it had vanished into thin air.

Then came the lowest point of the day. I left the po po station to get on my bike and return to work, Oh, what's this? someone had carefully deposited an empty handy andies style tissue packet in my basket, which they must have mistaken for a wicker bin (they didn't) OH and what other treats do we have in here?! a collection of tissues, laden with the kind of snot that you only produce when in the middle of a chesty infectiony cold, the tissues sealed into 4 or 5 little bags of heavy, yellow snot. I was in the police station for about 20 minutes. That's quick work for me to fall victim to that kind of behaviour...I should have reported that crime, it upset me much more than my wallet.

I was then faced with removing them from my basket and getting back to work. This was the point when I decided it was the worst day ever. In years to come I will be able to pinpoint it, looking down into my bike basket, confused, then horrified, as the moment that I lost my faith in humanity.