I am, Inshallah, leaving the UK for a few days shortly. This evening I happened to open the drawer where I keep my passport. (It's also the drawer where I keep the spare plugs & I was looking for a plug).

Upon opening the drawer it is immediately apparent to someone with my razor-sharp analytical skills that the only passport in it is defunct. With the corner cut off and everything.

Cue panic. Obviously I haven't needed my passport in a while. Since I went to Valencia in late February to be precise. (Yes, I know! Just before lockdown!! Lucky me!!!).

Anyway now. PANIC.

I start wildly looking in weird places such as under my son's bed. (Why would my passport be under his bed? I don't know. But then, I don't know why it wouldn't be in the passport drawer).

My son tries to calm me down. "It'll be somewhere in the house" he says. I think of a friend @SpineSideburn who used to say "it's in the lost place" when something was lost. I continue panicking.

I rootle through bags.

I wonder if I accidentally took it to Scotland and if so whether I lost it there.

I PANIC

And then an eerie calm descends and as if it is the most natural thing in the world I saunter over to my late mum's sewing table. And open up its tiny secret drawers.

And lo and behold....

And no, I have no idea what possessed me to put it in there. No recollection of doing it. But there it is. And the human brain is a wondrous thing indeed.

And so I can go on my trip. God, and my subconscious, willing.

The end