I was actually going to write a happy post about how I’m sorry I’ve neglected this blog, how I’ve been working a lot lately, getting on well, doing things, enjoying autumn and how I’m looking forward to the weekend. But now this is going to be a bitter, pissed-off rant.

When I left work today I was in a pretty good mood, we had kicked off a new social media project and I was looking forward to an evening in my flat with nice dinner, chocolate and TV. At the train station bakery I noticed that my purse was gone. Probably left in the office on my desk. Out of desperation and general confusion I phoned my co-worker who was on her way home but she didn’t answer. She called me back when I was on the bus on my way back to the office and told me she’s missing her wallet as well. No coincidendce if you ask me.

I searched the whole office – nothing. It was pretty clear that my purse got stolen. Stolen from my own bloody desk, most likely while I was in a meeting next door. Fucking next door. I only had about 5 Euros in there, a couple of coins, minus the ones I gave a homeless guy last night who moaned about how begging sucks as there’s just too much competition on the streets these days. I don’t mind about the money so much but now I have no ID, no bank card, no card for public transport, it’s all gone. It’s almost pathetic how I’m so dependent on a couple of shitty plastic cards. Me, who’s trying to be independent from everything.

Me, who kept her fucking bank PIN, online banking code and TAN numbers in her purse. I phoned the bank hotline and it took me about half an hour to spell my account number, bank code and name to a silly computer voice. I phoned the online banking hotline, had to listen to “Walking On Sunshine” (honestly, how inappropriate is that for a fucking bank hotline?) for about 10 minutes before the nicest hotline person I ever spoke to in my life answered and cheered me up a bit.

The more I think about it, the more I realise how irrelevant it actually is. I might be completely skint now. I might not. I might not have an ID right now, but I know I exist. Or maybe not. Who cares anyway. I’m pretty pissed off, though, so to the person who did this: Fuck you very much, fuck you and your pathetic existence. Happy Halloween.