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February 07, 2010

Where are my keys?


The three biggest all time self-inflected time wasters in my life, in order of most to least offensive.

1. Not getting enough sleep, which leads to exhaustion the next day and general inefficiency.
2. Living in Massachussets.
3. Searching for keys.

Solutions:

I'll never escape #1. I'm resigned to being a night owl and feeling tired if I have to get up early. That is that.

To fix #2, I moved back to California. (Any readers from Mass, out there, don't take this the wrong way. I adore ye, the good people of Mass. I even like the drivers -- aggression beats distracted Californians any day, because at least those behaviors are predictable. What got to me were the institutions: long lines, endless bureaucracy, for what? A chance to live in a state with huge income tax, blue laws, and the audacity to tow people during snow storms 30 minutes after the snow emergency announcement? Puhlease.)

I thought I had solved #3. Until Sunday.

Since moving into my house last year, I've developed have a key ritual. Unlock door, push it open, remove key, close door, and put the key on the bookcase by the door.

Always.

Sunday, I spent the day around town. Mr. A and I went to the theater with my mom, then the superbowl at his friend's house, and finally watched a movie (When in Rome: lame!). When I got home, I realized he'd been driving the whole time and my keys were missing.

I checked both purses, I checked the car, I checked every possible pocket, scoured the house, I even looked in the trash, I tried some places again, and finally I turned to Mr. A and basically whimpered.

"Have you seen my keys? I've been looking everywhere. Do you mind helping me look?"

He was working, deadline looming, so I felt bad to interrupt him. But I was getting frantic. Work the next day, and it was late.

Mr. A did the same thing, we retraced my steps in the past 24 hours and just when he was about to open the trash bin, I found them.

In my purse. The tiny purse I'd been wearing all day. And had checked. Twice.

Huge chunky monumental key ring. Tiny purse.

Some days.

[image above, representing what my brain was doing while my body was working so hard to find the keys, via tumblr]
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