I've lost my sweater.
Trip Start Oct 08, 2007
110Trip End Dec 16, 2008
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It had a hoodie. I've used it so many times to preserve my body-heat when sleeping in those same cold places in Peru. Yes, I was sleeping in it, and I also hiked in it and I wore it on the buss, when it got cold from the AC, or from the high altitude, or from the night. I wore it in Spanish class, when it was cold, or when my T-shirts wasn't presentable enough, because the sweater was. It was shapely and it stayed shapely. It wasn't the kind of sweater you buy for $10, that you are going to though away at the end of the trip. No no, it was much better than that, although I did pay only $10 for it. But it was soaked with memories and I was going to keep it forever, and take it with me on every trip, just like I do with my orange baseball cap that I got in New York 8 years ago. You always need A sweater when you travel. This one was perfect. It didn't take too much space, and it was light, and it was very, very warm.
I wore it all the time, except for two days ago, when it got really warm all of a sudden, so I took it off and throw it around the shoulder strap of my bag. And so it slipped away while I was walking and I never sow it again. I went back to look for it. It was a long way - walked halfway around Parque "3 de Febrero" and across Avenida de Libertador, zigzagged through the streets of Palermo Nuevo, crossed the train tracks and continued on the street that lies between the Big mosque and the Big supermarket, that looks so huge on the outside, that every time I pass buy I tell myself that they must have yogurt in this place, and I should come back and buy some when I have more time. There is no sweater in sight. I turn left at the bottom of the street, right at the edge of the polo course, and then make the first right into a quiet street. I stop again by the pretty orange house that looks deserted. Deserted as in: "no one lives here and no one cares". The heavy gate from cast iron is locked with a thick chain, but the front door is open and I can see through the tree branches that the house is empty inside. There is a glass covered terrace in the back and I think that it would be so nice to sit there in the sun, protected from the wind. It is getting cold now, and I am beginning to miss my sweater. Long story short, I didn't find it.
I lost other things last week, like a big chunk of my retirement savings, but I don't miss them. I never touched them (the savings that is) and they never did me any good. They were sitting there, compounding. They went up, and they went up, and then they went down. I don't miss them, but I miss my sweater. I miss huddling in it while watching the coffee maker drip hastily and spray coffee aroma into the chilly morning air. I miss it at the evenings, when it is too cold for a t-shirt, but too warm for a jacket. And I miss it when I'm dashing out to the bodega down the street to buy tangerines, which make an excellent non-fat snack while watching the financial indices bouncing up and down like there is no tomorrow. FYI: I have to snack, because I don't smoke any more.
What a crazy world, you can't even make plans for your sweater.
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Hugs & Kisses, Vik