great timing, universe! / #23
how a lost wallet became the perfect epilogue for my money story
So, a little bit of exciting news: my money diary is up on Beansprout! I talked with
about reaching financial independence, and some of the habits and lessons I’ve learned so far.
The plan for this accompanying essay was to dig deeper: expand on those themes, explore why the "financially free" label feels surreal, and why my brain’s instinct is to shy away from it. Something thoughtful about intentional living, maybe, and how I’m spending my money now.
Instead, I'm writing about how I lost my wallet, the day before the article went live.
Life has a way of editing your drafts in real time. Impeccable timing for irony, right?
I didn't even think anything was amiss, at first. I was at dinner with my sister and nephews, at a family-favorite restaurant where I’d amassed a stack of vouchers. I reached for my wallet in my bag, and came up empty.
But that wasn’t unusual. I swap bags constantly: a crossbody for short trips, a backpack for my laptop, a new running pouch I’d just started using. I figured the wallet was left in one of the other bags.
The thought that the front zip was already open gave me a brief pause, but not enough to raise alarm.
When I got home that night, I emptied out all my bags.
Annnd that’s when I realized: I’ve lost my wallet, for the first time in my life.
The next fifteen minutes were a whirl of logins and mental math.
I could’ve dropped the wallet at any point between 11am and 6pm, which was plenty of time for mischief to happen!
Luckily, there weren’t any suspicious transactions, which confirmed my hypothesis that it was a careless accident, and not an act of malice.
To DBS’s credit, it was pretty painless to request for replacements for the two credit cards in there.
[An interlude for a sad farewell, to my card number I’d committed to memory over the years, with my favorite two-digit numbers appearing twice in there.]
Then I sighed at the admin work ahead: I’d need to pay to replace my NRIC (Singapore’s national ID), and the driving license I’d worked so hard to get last year.
To my surprise, I didn’t even need to file a police report; a self-declaration to ICA would suffice.
So I went to bed, mildly inconvenienced but not terribly upset.
Ah well.
01:52 AM:
The 1st transaction of $20.38 was made with your card ending ****. If unauthorized, call Fraud Hotline…
Plot twist?
Theft!
What I’d forgotten was a third card, tucked behind the others.
It was a random debit card from another bank (UOB, who, unlike the credit that I gave DBS, is a pain in the ass right now); financial debris left from a season of frugality when I was trying to optimize interest rates.
The thief made two transactions, though I only got the text confirmation for the first one.
Total damage: less than $40.
And I mean…
If you're going to commit a traceable crime, for less than the cost of the replacement documents I now have to get — in Singapore, no less, where there are literally cameras in every corner — at least make it worth the effort?
😅
Was it a broke teen? A drunk adult? A bored commuter? I’ll never know.
Let’s break down the timeline:
Found or pickpocketed the wallet
Waited a few hours (Why? Dramatic tension?)
Got disappointed by the less-than-$10 cash, plus some stray Malaysian ringgit
Dug through the cards
Got declined once
Got declined again
Success!
Bought… snacks? A drink?
Not even a late-night cab ride. A pretty tame heist, all things considered.
What gets me is the methodology. They had my entire wallet — multiple cards, everything needed for a proper identity theft — and they chose to buy a late-night snack.
It’s like being handed someone’s life, and choosing to update their LinkedIn headline.
And here’s where I feel weird admitting it: I didn’t feel angry. Instead, I just feel mildly insulted.
Like… that's it? That's your grand plan?
Ten years ago, this would've been hard-hitting.
I remember those days, calculating groceries and whether I’d be able to get the Starbucks that I shouldn’t be getting in the first place, but the rest of my colleagues were and I didn’t want to be left out.
(The Starbucks answer should’ve been no, but I probably would’ve gotten it anyway. I wasn’t great at saying no to other people.)
Now? Now I fill out some forms, make a joke, and write about it.
Should I be more upset about the theft?
Maybe that’s what freedom actually looks like in practice: not private-jet-level wealth, but the ability to treat a small crisis as an inconvenience rather than a catastrophe.
So no, this isn't the essay I meant to write.
But maybe it’s the truer one, when life rolls you a lemon in the path.
The thief got a drink (maybe).
I got perspective.
And a police report number. And a new wallet. And a new identity card and driving license.
We’ll call it even.
Other things
July’s passed by in such a hurry! It feels like I’m doing that duck-paddling-furiously-underwater motion right now with nothing concrete to show for it, but I’m hopeful that things will fall slowly into place.
Tidied up my domain a little bit, just to have better wayfinding online. Most notably, I spun up a home for the money layer design — if this seems helpful, I’d love to chat!
Until next time,
Jalyn