Disaster!!! I have lost my wallet!!!

Everything is in my wallet. My expired season ticket for the Tram is in there - I am currently running a competition to see how long I can ride the tram on an expired season ticket before changing over to my real ticket - which is also in my wallet. My Gym card, my Shareholders United card, my car insurance details, two "secret things for grown ups", my driver's license and my National Insurance card are all in there too. And my Nectar card - think of all those points! :(

Oh and all my bank cards. I wish the thief good luck on guessing the PIN numbers for my Visa and Master Cards. I don't even know them. And let's hope that they don't figure out that my Maestro's PIN is written in a Secret Code on a piece of paper called "List of Phone Numbers". It appears as the middle four numbers for "Phil In Nottingham"

It has my life in my wallet - I could now become a victim of Identity Fraud!!!

(If you have stolen my identity, then please feel free to take over updating this blog. If you leave me a comment with your email address, I'll send you the password and you can start updating tomorrow! All you need to do is write stories about Trams and Toilets.)

Over the past few months, I have been getting more and more paranoid about losing my wallet and begin to hyperventilate. My friends, colleagues and neighbours must think I have joined some really odd Cult because I cannot leave any room without genuflecting - "Wallet, Keys, Phone and iPod."

I cannot believe this has happened. Especially today, when I've already suffered the trauma of over-waxing my hair and turned out looking like a lego man. I must've taken my eye off the ball. I begin to concot how it could've been stolen. I left the windows open when I went to the tram stop and my wallet was on the sofa - I know that because I had just got a stamp out. Someone must've come in through the window and taken it. That's the only explanation.

My Canadian Girlfriend comes in and sees the panic on my face and without asking for an explanation she says "Sit down, I'll make you a cup of tea.". She is becoming more English by the day.

I sit on the sofa and get prodded in the back by a rectangular black object from between the cushions. I keep quiet and start to drink my tea.

"You look worried - what's up?" she says.

Not wanting to look a complete fool, I reply, "It's this whole Middle East thing...."