So I lost my wallet,

Again. This seriously happens to me on average 1.5 times a year. It is sad to say that I have gotten used to it. My new puppy gigs and bi weekly tips allows me to carry more cash around, so my semi expensive night out to watch the final game of the world series (go sox!) turned into a very expensive night out. And it wasn't even one of those really drunk, left it in the bar sort of scenarios. Nope, I paid for the cab home and somewhere in that transaction of handing over 15 bucks, opening the cab door, and walking across the street, I lost my little black wallet, with credit cards, a $20 full charlie card, library card, and about $80 in cash. Ho diddily hum.

Bostonians have proved their worthiness in the past with my lost wallets. One man had found my tiny cloth wallet in the sleet and slush of Davis Square where it had fallen out when I ran in to return a movie. He called every possible number he could imagine to try to find me. UNH, the library in NH and eventually found my parent's home number. I received a call at work saying that he had my wallet and would I like it if he dropped it off for me at work! He did, this lovely lovely gentleman who would not take a penny for his efforts.
And again, in Cambridge a few years back, I received my wallet a week after it was lost in the mail, sent to my parent's address in NH. (I really should get a Mass licence this time around I suppose) with a kind note saying it was found on their front stoop.

So, not all Bostonians are bike thieving assholes.( Though a lot of them are! My poor sister just had her bike stolen from her front porch the same night I lost my wallet!GRRR)

Anyway, what have I learned from all this?
Not to be a moron.
Not to take cabs.

Or perhaps the universe is trying to teach me a more valuable lesson? Perhaps I am supposed to learn that stuff and money are not important and by freeing me of these material burdens I will gain a clearer and more precise understanding of humanity?

Or something.
I still miss my bike.