21 04 2010

A few weeks ago while packing the suitcase to go fly away on yet another job, I noticed that I was one shirt down. I probably wouldn’t notice this if I had a large number of shirts. When you live like this, one down is a significant percentage drop. How do you lose your shirt? I don’t gamble, at least not with items of clothing. And I don’t go to the sort of parties that you might return from without a shirt, and no memory of the event. Partly because that sort of thing is not for me, but mostly because I don’t get invited to those sort of parties.

Flummoxed, I pulled apart and searched my wardrobe. Twenty seconds later I did it again. Nope, definitely gone.

After two weeks of wonder, Mum had the answer. I had left it in Australia. One less thing to iron wash.



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