“What James Howell wants to do is…[b]uy a landfill, excavate tens of thousands of tons of trash…and find the hard drive that contains his mistakenly discarded bitcoin key, worth somewhere around $800 million.

….

…[H]e was cleaning out his office…when he carelessly left a hard drive among a pile of rubbish earmarked for the dump.  A miscommunication with his partner at the time led to the hard drive being gathered up and taken to the landfill.”

—New York Times print edition, February 16, 2025, page 4

Monday

That was Sunday, before the watchman and the dogs chased me out of the landfill. Now it seems as if I have misplaced the Ferrari. I remember leaving the car idling on the street while I stopped in at City Hall to see if the landfill had a lost and found. May have left keys in the car. Don’t see it anywhere. Che sara lieu sara, as Enzio Ferrari might say. At least I didn’t get a parking ticket.

Tuesday

I put the Sunday paper out for recycling after I finished the crossword. Have a sneaking suspicion I may have put the Leonardo Codex in the recycling along with paper. I was using it for clues in lieu of Google or AI since I no longer have a functional computers;  also why crossword took until Tuesday. 

Wednesday

Could I have mistakenly included the Shade of Turin with the items I took to the laundry? Hard to tell since the laundress refuses to communicate with me—not even a  “Hello” or “Box or Hangers?”—now that she realizes that without bitcoin I am penniless. But I am not sure what I did with the laundry ticket anyway.

Thursday

Thought I’d take the subway to check about the landfill at the lost and found again but couldn’t seem to find my MetroCard.

Friday

It’s good news and bad news today. Good news: The man at the bodega thinks I had the winning Mega Lottery numbers. Bad news: can’t find that ticket, either. Think I may have used it as a book mark for the Leonardo Codex.

Saturday

Trying to flee country to avoid angry creditors and the sheriff with the summons for trespassing at the landfill. But couldn’t find wallet or passport. May be in the Ferrari glove compartment. Or may be domestic partner picked them up my mistake. Come to think of it, haven’t seen her for a while, either. 

Sunday

Tasteless baked potatoes tonight. Couldn’t lay my hands on the Cellini salt cellar. Not in cupboards, dishwasher or picnic basket. Might I have put it in the Goodwill box last December when the doctor told me to cut down on sodium intake? Oh, well, it could have been a Bruegel or Vermeer and after all it’s not like it’s a huge Michelangelo or anything. Even the people at the museum in Vienna lost the damn thing once.

Monday

Watched a festival of Samuel Becket plays on cable TV. Seemed very realistic somehow. But can’t turn them off. Can’t seem to locate the remote.