One pair of Bloch proelastic ballet flats
One pair of black stirrup tights
One Bloch floaty dress thing
One Capezio black cami leo
One pair cheap black H&M tights
Two H&M tees
One black dotty skirt
One packet hair bobbles
One packet hair pins
One packet hair grips
One knee support
One tube deep freeze
One packet of plasters
One roll on deodorant
Moral of the story, chums: don’t leave your dance bag on the train.
It’s not as if it’s a small thing. Or something I don’t cart around on a daily basis. But the realisation when I got the office was GALLING.
I’ve registered it as lost property with my train company who take TEN DAYS to get back to you (allegedly, I’ve reported lost property to them before and nobody’s ever got back to me).
I’m already slightly resigned to never being reunited with my dance bag and it’s two years worth of accumulated crap. I’m sad about losing my grey tee with the blue polka dot elbow patches and the ballet shoes I was just starting to get used to and my pretty ruffle front leo and my excellent stripy slippers and my butterfly headband.
I mean it’s not the end of the world and I did need a new rucksack anyway (I’m also über grateful that it wasn’t pointe class today!), but I’ll just be in the corner kicking myself quietly for a bit.
On the plus side, my ego was firmly massaged a short while later with an email telling me I’d got the funding in my budget I’d put in a business case for and that it was the best written/presented case of all the ones that went in this year’s proposed budget. As it was my first business case, I’m gonna call that a win.