As if you need further evidence of my dingbattiness: I lost my wallet yesterday at the grocery store. So that means that in the span of a week, I lost half a gallon of strawberry ice cream (still unaccounted for), my cell phone, and my wallet. If only I'd committed to doing another buy-nothing week this week -- like having no cell phone temptation while in the car, with no wallet, it'd be a cakewalk.
Last night, as Peter was making all the credit-card-cancelling calls (I hate the phone and get really impatient with this sort of thing) he had to put me on the line to talk to the agent and request a new card myself. As he handed me the phone, and I thought to myself, "Yeah, that's how it was last time too." And then I thought -- how many times have I lost my damn wallet?! The answer is: several. And several phones, too. A couple of highlights -- I dropped one phone onto the train tracks, and one Hannah dropped in the toilet at a park. My detritus is scattered all over the place -- and across at least two states.
I just asked Peter whether, should I suddenly become super-responsible about my possessions and never lose a personal item again, he would miss it. I think on some level, I hope my absentmindedness is part of my (limited) charm, like an idiot character in a sitcom: "Erica lost her phone again!" ::sad trumpet:: "Oh, that Erica!" ::laugh track:: I eagerly anticipate his response.
UPDATE! Peter's response: Honestly? I would love it if that went away. I don't find it charming, I find it frustrating.
And what I told him is, it's like my frequent lateness at the office: it's lucky I'm awesome in so many other ways. I'm great, but I cost. Still. I'm working on it, chief.