Lucky Bitch

I've been walking around half-asleep lately.
Don't really know why.
It's not that I almost lost my job last week.
Or that I am losing interest in the only other thing that drives me to wake up everyday.

Last night I lost my phone. And found it again.
Right in the middle of the road.

I had gotten off my usual stop, about a block from my house.
Before going home, I had passed by a late-night supermarket to get fresh fruit and my guilty junk food rations for the week.

Now I have this stupid tendency of texting in the middle of traffic which was why my mobile was not tucked safely in my bag, but just barely peeking out of my jeans pocket. When I got off, with my big backpack (gym staple) and pack of groceries, I didnt bother to double check if I had left anything behind (thats another thing I'm prone to doing nowadays, never looking back)
It was not until I was inside the house that I noticed the absence of a bulge in my right pocket.

Panic, i've learned, is a controllable urge once you've conditioned the mind to accept things you cannot change or contribute to.
So as I decided to search my bags then retrace my steps all the way outside, I was also trying to tell myself that stupid things happen because I let it happen, because thats what happens when you let yourself slide into a lazy state of complacency.

I figured, by this time, somebody wouldve passed by and picked it up already.
But then again, it wouldnt hurt to at least try and look for it.
So as I walked, not trying to look too panicked, nor too dejected. Until I reached the main road. Just as a tricycle zoomed passed the dark orange-lit street, I saw a small black bar lying smack in the middle of the road and i raced to it, knowing full well it could have already been flattened by the rush of vehicles zooming past.
But I was lucky, it was 10pm and traffic was light.

So as I walked up to my poor phone (Its just a baby at barely 2 weeks old), i felt ashamed at being so careless, so scatterbrained, so full of myself. It didnt have a scratch on it at all! (well, except the ones I made when I lug it around).

I figured, only people who have ever truly been in need are the most careful people in the world. Those who do not have any extra to spare, or have cherished what they have to the point of worship. These are those who know and appreciate how lucky they are, to have what they have, to be in the exact situation they have been put in. They know fully well why they do or don't deserve what they have.

I'm not rich. A cellphone is as much a luxury as it is a necessity for me. But maybe, deep inside I know I can live without it. That I dont really need it (well, my boss needs it to contact me, but not the other way around. God knows I'd love not getting last minute text assignments in the middle of the night). I know I should value money more. That it is not just a means to an end, but a means to get me to a specific end.

Love is another commodity in my life I haven't quite taken good care of lately. It seems that I am at a point of losing it and I am not being extra careful again. Not with my actions nor with my words.

I need to keep things closer to my heart I think.