The Jacket (Real Life Version)

So, two days after posting a story about an abandoned jacket I find myself in the position of having abandoned one myself – a situation whose irony is not lost on me. How I managed to get all the way home from a night out before realising the loss is a mystery (though the alcohol jacket presumably played its part), but what’s even more annoying than having lost my favourite (and only) winter coat is what was in its pockets at the time – namely one set of house keys, some excellent headphones and my only pair of gloves.

Standing outside your house at 4am on a cold November night wearing only a cardigan as the slow realisation dawns you cannot actually get inside the house to warmth and bed is a soul destroying feeling. Fortunately my best friends were still awake when I pitched up on their doorstep so I was able to stay there, but it was a sobering walk to say the least and made me realise how horrendous life must be for people who are forced to sleep on the streets.

Today brought with it numerous aches and pains, the greatest of these by far trying – and failing – to locate my coat and belongings. The last bastion of hope was dashed on the walk home when I popped into the last bar we’d been in to check if it had been handed in, and I’m now regretfully calling off the search and accepting there will be no glorious reunion. My beloved coat has gone to the great cloakroom in the sky (or more likely is now in the possession of some opportunistic thieving scally). On the plus side, I’m looking forward to shopping for its replacement…

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