who steals my purse...

Who steals my purse steals my ID, and that is a real nuisance. I seem always to need a new VISA card just before a trip so that I must push to get a new one/number before I go away.  I have learned over the years, and perhaps these are tips that will help you, not to put all my IDs in one basket... CENSORED ON ADVICE FROM A FRIEND ......  Thus, even when I am without tangible means of payment, I am not bereft. Still, as I say, it's a nuisance. 

One thing I noted, with satisfaction: The fear factor seems to be gone. I am no longer panic-stricken when something like this happens.  My serenity has something to do with my age. I've lived through so many crises by now, that ones like this seem minor by comparison.

"þæs ofereode, þises swa mæg"

Now, if the automatic spell-chek will allow that to be there, this translates as "That passed, so may this."  It's from Deor's Lament, an Old English poem that carries me through the hard times.

I  won't go into detail.  Everyone has his/her own anxiety level.  The mind, of course, can play the worst tricks on your equilibrium.  Some people seek mental anguish in horror shows and violent movies.  I avoid it and them,  but I get agitated, and the soles of my feet tingle, when I board an escalator that goes too high or too low.  I think of those deep, deep escalators in the subways of London that people used as bomb shelters during WWII.  I think the closest, though far from it, in Toronto, is the escalator in the Scotia Bank Building on John Street. I can't look up or down or sideways on that one; I just tense up and clutch the handrail during the ascent.  The descent is worse.

Ah well, into every life a little angst must fall. To thine own self be true.