So I lost my sandals in the process of moving between apartments. It didn't matter that much because I don't really need them in the new apartment and they were starting to smell anyway, so I figured they probably got thrown away at some point cause I remembered leaving them in a plastic bag on the floor (stupid idea, I know).
Today I could've sworn I saw a red deck of cards lying on Nick's desk in our room a half hour ago, but now they're missing and I can't seem to calm myself down like when I got over the sandals. Not even in light of more important things happening tonight.
I hate losing things.
I hate losing things.
I hate losing things.
I hate losing things.
I hate losing things.
It isn't really so much the losing of an item that pisses me off as it is the waste of... money? that I associate with it. I would be fine if I had a replacement for the thing I lost, although the thought of having to spend money to replace something I've lost still irritates me.
I still haven't really gotten over losing that black sweater.
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