Everything was fine from waking up until I got a text from S proclaiming it laundry day. Sorting through my dirty clothes I realized I had no idea where my wallet was. Coming on the heels of yesterday’s trip to town, this was not good.
I looked all over the place – that is, everywhere I could think to look. I have a long, long history of absently setting important things in oddball places and not seeing them again for days/weeks/months/ever. But of course at first the most likely thought was “I lost it in town, every dollar I owned is gone forever and I should be cancelling my bank card right f’ing now.” Except I would certainly find my wallet approximately six picoseconds after I did that last thing.
I checked every pocket. I went through the just-sorted laundry again. I thought through (incompletely, it turns out) all my moves upon getting home yesterday. In the course of that I went up into the storage loft, because that’s where most of the groceries went. Didn’t find my wallet but I did find…
Are you kidding me? My first thought was that at last a large and now dangerously caffeinated rat had found its way into the loft. It never happened before but that doesn’t make it impossible. But why hit a coffee can right next to a bunch of untouched bagged lentils? Why isn’t there any other damage? For that matter why aren’t there any scratches on the coffee can or lid? This doesn’t look like it was torn apart – it kind of looks like it exploded.
As far as I can tell, that’s exactly what happened. It came from a low-altitude area to a high-altitude area – the Lair – and we’ve had some weather lately. I think it really just popped its seal. That has happened before, but never enough to blow the lid right off the can.
This wasn’t helping me find my damned wallet. I dropped off my laundry then drove to S&L’s and asked permission to search their truck’s back seat. Nothing. From S&L’s I had gone directly to Ian’s place to put some stuff in his refrigerator. Absolutely no reason to believe I’d somehow dropped the wallet there but that was the next step in retracing so I went there. No wallet, of course but there is a compressor, hose and impact wrench. Yesterday I replaced every lug nut on the Jeep except one, and I stopped because that one threatened to do the thing I most feared. So I fired up Ian’s compressor, and shortly afterward I came back to beat that last lug nut off with an impact wrench and socket. And sure enough…
I rounded off the nut. Three wheels are fixed and one is officially screwed. I can’t get a nut splitter into that little space so there’s nothing to do but sit down with a hammer and cold chisel. That will surely ruin the stud, of course, but at least I’ll be able to remove the wheel at need. And studs aren’t really hard to replace; I’ve done it in a parking lot before.
This was sufficiently bad news to complete the ruination of my morning, except then as if in compensation I had what almost amounted to a vision: I clearly pictured myself emptying my pockets yesterday at the kitchen counter, just before taking off my good going-to-town pants. In one pocket was a dollar bill and some coins. I saw myself straighten out that bill and put it … in my wallet, which like an idiot I then put on the shelf on the wall right next to the box where I keep loose coins. The shelf where that wallet never goes. I had indeed absently set the damned thing some oddball place where I’d never have accidentally encountered it until the next time I had to deal with loose change – which, given that every dollar to my name was in that wallet, wouldn’t have been for a while.
That was sufficiently good news to almost compensate for the knowledge of what fixing the Jeep is going to put me through, so I went back to Ian’s powershed and did something I’ve put off for a week: Loaded myself back up to 100 rounds of practice ammo. I very much hope in another week or so I’ll be able to replace the .44’s mainspring, and I want ammo to confirm or deny the repair.