On Thursday I drove up to Wilton to visit E. at her parents' house before she headed back home to NYC. I stopped for gas in Gray and thought, as I was washing my windshield, "I'd better remember to take my wallet off the roof of the car before I leave." And of course I didn't remember. And didn't realize it until more than an hour later when I arrived in Wilton.
I've never actually lost my wallet, though I've thought I've lost my wallet several times and usually I panic and cancel all of my credit cards and then find it. This time I knew exactly what I'd done and where the wallet probably was (somewhere on Route 4 pretty close to the gas station in Gray), and I was totally calm. For some reason, I had this unshakeable conviction that my wallet was absolutely fine, that someone nice had picked it up and would find my phone number in the book and leave me a message about it. Very unusual behavior for me. Furthermore, I also had this gut feeling that something fabulous would be happening to me soon. Super unusual. So I went off and had a great day with E. and then stayed for dinner and finally got back on the road about the time a huge thunderstorm was starting and drove in absolutely terrible conditions all the way home. And the whole time I was still convinced that something wonderful and fun would be coming soon.
Well, my wallet was found by a nice man and his wife in Gray, in the middle of the road, untouched--not even run over. And not rained on. And on the way home I noticed a sign for cheap mulch hay on Route 26. I'm going over there on Monday with the trailer.
So far the Fabulous Thing hasn't happened yet, and I'm totally curious. What will it be?! Or curious what I've been eating lately that's making me into an optimist. Maybe it's the return to solitary living?