The weirdest thing happened this past week. Well, two unfortunate things combined to become one weird – very coincidental – thing.
I travelled (for work) to Cairns in the far north of the state. As well as a two-day workshop I was helping out at a couple of events / meetings. I knew I’d be on my feet and moving around so planned ahead with comfortable shoes and a small cross-body purse so I didn’t have to worry about storing or carrying a larger handbag.
I decanted my usual bag, wedging my personal credit card into my little purse with my drivers licence, some cash, work cards, two mobile phones and a lip gloss.
Fast forward a day and I’d helped out at the important work meetings (resplendent with my cross-body purse which kept my hands free for other stuff) and, relieved to have had a long day done, I caught up with colleagues for a late dinner.
The next day I went to buy snacks for our workshop and could’t find my credit card. My stupid little purse has a million tiny pockets so I figured it was buried somewhere and I’d find it later. (And thankfully had cash for the energy-inducing lollies and chocolates.)
But alas, the card was nowhere to be found. I called the restaurant from the night before, scoured my hotel room and even checked with the police station.
I must mention I was pretty stressed as – at that point – I’d never used my phone’s Apple wallet to pay for stuff and had no idea how cardless cash worked… so I was worried about how I’d pay for anything for the remaining three days of my trip. Not to mention I didn’t really have time to go into a bank to cancel my credit card… and was still hoping it’d turn up. Thankfully colleagues showed me how to ‘lock’ the card on my bank’s phone app which was a relief* and I learned how to withdraw cash using my phone.
In true ‘me’ form however, I really struggled to put it out of my mind and focus on work because I blamed myself. IF I hadn’t transferred everything into my stupid too-small bag, it wouldn’t have happened. Part of me knew it wasn’t a practical move as every time I reached into the tiny purse for my phone (or a key) other stuff tended to tumble out at the same time.
A day or two later I phoned my mother to check in. ‘You’ll never guess what happened,’ she said when she answered. ‘I lost my credit card.’
She used it Monday when out and about and hadn’t seen it since.
I can’t even begin to imagine the probability that both of us – 1448 kilometres apart – would lose our credit cards on the same day. Mother-daughter bonding at its finest. It’s just too weird. Isn’t it?
*And it still hasn’t been used.