the on going debacle that is the missing handbag…

I have always loved carrying a handbag.

When I was a little girl my mum made me a special bag that had a pouch on the bottom that was perfectly made to fit my favourite dog toy at the time. This was perfect for me, even at 6 I already had a long legacy of loosing and misplacing things.

Now I am 23 and that legacy is now an old friend, always reliably turning up during the tough times and I still love to carry a handbag with all my essentials in. So of course, it was only a matter of time until my old friend ‘loosing legacy’ and my trusty companion ran away together.

And as always when friends get together it is always at the most inconvenient time. In my case, on the same day I packed up my life and returned to York.

What did I loose?

My passport.

My purse.

The takings from my latest show.

My notebook.

My railcard.

But also the idea that changing and overhauling your life was as simple as ringing your parents up and telling them you need to come home. It isn’t.

I had gone home thinking I would take a day or two to rest, watch a few (a lot) bad shows, think things over, then I would make a  to-do list, start ticking things off and wam bam, thank you mam, my life would be brand new by Christmas.

Except when I went to my notebook (you know how I love my notebook) after a few days resting, I couldn’t find it. No problem, I’ll just use a piece of paper for now, sure the list won’t look quite as pretty but that’s not the point right?

List made, what was next? Oh right, go get my hair cut. New life, new hair cut. But hang on? Where’s my purse?

Not packed up, not in the car, my purse was closer to my old life than I had realised, and it had all my debit cards in.

Ok, that’s not too bad, I mean I was gonna use the money from the show to pay for the hair cut, and that’s gone and I can’t access any money at a cash point, but that’s fine, ringing up your bank and cancelling your cards is easy, done in a matter of minutes.

Plus all you have to do, is take your passport into the bank, and get some cash out over the counter.

Oh snap no passport.

Even if I get some money out, and head back to Manchester the train fare is gonna cost me a fortune because I have lost my rail card. Plus I will only have to come straight back home to pick up my new cards and the temping agency still haven’t got back to me about my hours, and I am gonna have to pay for a new passport and my credit card bill is due, and there is no money in my overdraft.

I am trying to stay calm.

I made the best of it, and then got an email to say the bag had been found. One silver lining right, and a gorgeous friend offered to pick it up, except there was a mis-communication and the bag is still hanging out at Costa Coffee on the M62.

Changing nearly every aspect of your life isn’t easy. Staying calm about it all is even harder. Everyday I change my mind on what the next best step to take is, and the only constant I seem to have at the moment, comes in the shape of three little words…

I don’t know.

I don’t know when I will get my hand bag back, I don’t know when i will come back to Manchester, I don’t know what my next step is. And if I try to rush it, I’m pretty sure I get mild panic attacks.

This seems to be a reoccurring sign off on this blog, but I just have o tell myself.

I don’t know, and for now that’s ok x




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