Predictably, I made many serendipitous discoveries. I found some clothes, three baseball caps, gobs and gobs of paper (printouts, documents from the office, old roleplaying props and character sheets2, newspaper sections), a few books, four pens (none of which I could ever find when I needed them, which perpetuated the incentive to stash more pens in David), three(!) mapbooks of Israel, including a tome of street maps for all Israeli cities I never knew I had, a gift I bought three years ago in the US (in Monterey) and never gave anyone, my old squash racquet, unidentified antennae (as in electronics, not dismembered insects!), countless music tapes of various denominations, a few postcards, and, disturbingly, no less than 17(!) 1.5-liter plastic bottles full of water3.
One piece of paper I found was a note from the IDF reminding me that my discharge grant4 may be freely claimed starting February 10th (which would mark five years to my discharge from the IDF). Now that's serendipitous! I could really use the money; it comes to about 15,000 NIS by now.
Ach, David, you served me well. I'll miss you.
1 Pronounced david.
2 Apparently, I have a habit of dumping the roleplaying papers in the car's trunk after games played at conventions.
3 My previous car used to overheat sometimes, and always had to have water available. This engendered in me a minor paranoia about there not being water in the car, and I now realize that I have been adding to the car's water stash over the years.
4 For my non-Israeli readers: Upon a soldier's discharge, the IDF puts some money in a small fund on the soldier's name, but the soldier may not just grab the money -- it can be withdrawn only to pay for education, to start a business, and for two or three other "constructive" purposes, the idea being to encourage people to start building their lives rather than going on a wild spending spree or trekking in Bolivia. After five years, if the money has not yet been used for one of the prescribed purposes, it can be freely withdrawn.