Me and my headmate Evey venting in the immediate aftermath of a groanable event.
On Saturday 9-30-23, we had just come off a train station to meet family returning from a jaunt and be driven to a restaurant. My cardfold - all of my ID cards, credit cards, gift cards and such held with a rubber band - and my keys were in a side pocket of a new pair of women's pants with women's pants pockets. They fell out as I sat on the curb and RSVPed with them (my phone escaped a similar fate for being in my hand) and we drove off. We didn't realize until fifteen minutes later in line at the restaurant.
Despite hightailing it back, it was gone, I managed to have five panic attacks that night and was pretty collapsed for several hours. So far this week has been, between inktober, mostly me going around fixing this all up, getting replacement cards and such.
You can summarize this as "wallet stolen."
The killer was that I was in a really bad neighborhood and lost an ID with my address on it AND keys to our house. (I moved in with my parents after college, and before you ask, I pay them rent.) For our safety, we just had to replace all the locks in the house and all our keys, and I'm due to shoulder some of the costs.

Total fees: $25 for Alumni ID (for the campus library), $5 for my train card, $10 in cash I was carrying to put on the train cards, $20 for a replacement state ID, $20 for two membership cards, $112 between three gift cards, a $40 bike lock with no key (I'll go cheaper but I'd splurged on this one after my last lock was broken and bike stolen during a work shift in 2016), and $120 for my share of having all the locks on the house replaced and extra keys made. Some of that I'll eat, but I did NOT plan on this loss and I'm in straits as it is, so I've set up a gofundme for it.

Click here to help.

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As for the actual comic, I wrote this the night it happened with zero planning, just a vague sense of the pacing, and the idea of experimenting with the size of the whitespace in the balloons. Evey was distraught, but I was catatonic, I look much cooler here. But I had to get our feelings on paper.
("Achterlijke" - Evey's trying to not say "retarded" - a word we have complicated feelings about after a childhood in special ed and a lot of bullying - and says the equivalent in Dutch like our distant relatives used to say about us. Fakakta, you all know that's from the Yiddish for "enshittened," I'm correcting her pronunciation. She hates when I do that, since she's not good with languages and thinks I'm lording her.)
Being plural is wild, you can just argue with yourself and draw it. But I felt better after this.

And I really did use that same keychain since I was eleven. It's an emotional loss for us. And the day goes on.