19th May 2012
Most of the things in there were replaceable, in fact most of them I’ve already re-ordered or dealt with. I am not completely moneyless. I have about £30 to last me till my new card and pin comes and that’s more than plenty because I’ve got food and travel and friends who I can hold debts to if something bad happens.
The thing that really upset me was the sentimental trinkets I had hidden. I think it’s true that the word mental is embedded in sentimental because it seems a little crazy to be upset over train-stubs from an ex-lover who didn’t even love you and little post-it notes from your mum about leaving the fridge open or a full nandos card (gutting!) but I do feel sad. I feel sad because I like to hoard onto my life so I can remember where I’ve been and where I’m going. I am also gutted I lost my cute heart shaped condom. I wasn’t ever going to use it. I just thought it would make someone laugh if anyone ever finds me attractive ever again. And fucking isn’t fun if you’re not laughing.
Then I thought about it and London Sophie isn’t really upset about these things. They’re not important. But they were. But not anymore. You can store new train ticket stubs with nicer men and your flat mates post-it notes and your always on a diet when will you ever go to nandos without feeling 20 billion stone? You don’t have to document everything. It’s okay to scrap everything and start again. Trying to be grounded in history and tradition and sentiment and nostalgia just makes you miserable. Now is a good time.
I guess I should buy a new purse.
