Losing your wallet or pouch is a traumatic experience. Your whole life is there, and just the thought of the staggering amounts of beaurocracy and procedure involved in recovering everything there, to speak nothing of lost phone numbers, irreplacable pictures on my camera  and other intangibles. 

The whole process of realization is, in fact, quite similar to the famous Five Stages of dealing with loss or terminal illness. I will, of course, elaborate.

1. Denial

I haven’t lost my pouch. It’s around here somewhere. Didn’t I put it on that chair when I came into the classroom? Of course I did. It’s just out of sight. I’ll go get it when class is over. I just left it back in the library, of course. I remember it clearly. It’s sitting there on the counter. I remember leaving it just there. It’s not lost, it’s just there.

2. Anger

How could I be such an IDIOT? Again? I nearly lost the damn camera in San Francisco two weeks ago and now I go and lose it AGAIN? Can I not keep a little piece of zippered cloth on my shoulder for ONE FUCKING DAY?

3. Bargaining

Be calm, be calm. Let’s retrace my steps. If I follow my footsteps exactly, I’ll find where I left it. I walked from the library with Peli – here, you stand here, pretend to be Peli. Right. Ok. He’s a bit taller, but it’ll do. Right. I walked here, right? Left leg forward. Into the building. Up to the classroom, then I stopped at the water fountain for a drink. I’ll take the same drink again. Bend down at the same angle. Is this the same fountain? The water wasn’t as cold before. It can’t be the same fountain. I’m doing it wrong. I can’t find my pouch.

4. Depression

Check back at the library? I suppose. It’s not there. We checked already. It’s gone. Yeah, we can go talk to the building superintendent, I suppose. Not much use. Probably picked clean and thrown in the garbage somewhere on campus where it is destined to become landfill.

5. Acceptance

I suppose I’ll cancel my credit cards now. *sigh*. I know what I’m doing for the rest of the week. I need to call my bank. And the university. And health insurance. And the cellular company. And get a new MP3 player. And camera.

5a.  Alternate ending for the disgustingly optimistic; like me.

Where’s the building superintendent when you need him? Oh, here he is. Did someone bring you a… they did? You do? Tried calling me? Yes, that’s the one. Yes, it’s all here. Right. I know, I know. No, I have no idea where I… yes. Thanks. Thank you!

(With many, many thanks to ntopaa)