That's what I yelled last night when, for the second weekend in a row, I drove all the way to the grocery store only to realize I had left my wallet at home. This forgetfulness is a new phenomenon brought on by my recent career change. When I used to get up and go to work each day, my wallet invariably made it's way into the familiar and well worn right rear pocket of that day's corporate casual pants. Now that I spend half of most days wearing whatever I have on when I slither out of bed, the wallet is a distant afterthought. So twice now, I've slipped off to the grocery store after the kids are asleep and then had to rush home for the ol' wallet. That's forty minutes wasted. That also means I then have to rush through the store to finish up shopping before the closing time.