Lost Hope
I would like to ask the universe this morning why the frequency in which things seem to hit the fan in the least convenient manner possible is in direct proportion to how important it is for the aforementioned things to go smoothly. Shockingly, this post is not about how everything went swimmingly along when there was nothing for me to do but sit around the house and watch Downton Abby reruns on Netflix.
My husband had a big thing at work today, so he needed to be in the office before eight. So, last night, I arranged everything: I set my alarm for 5:45, I made the lunches I needed to make, I picked everyone's clothes, and I went to bed at a reasonable hour. However, as I am currently scribing this part of the tale while watching the hubs type stuff in the kitchen at 8:10, clearly, something in my great plan has gone strangly amiss.
What was the problem, you ask? Did an earthquake bring down the power grid? Did a rogue case of bubonic plague break out in our apartment? Have the monkeys broken loose and taken over the zoo? No, nothing so commonplace. The disaster of the morning is the case of the missing car key.
We looked everywhere: in the car, around the car, between the apartment and the car, near the front door, away from the front door, on every surface in the entire apartment. We looked in pockets, drawers, hampers, and bins. We looked under beds, blankets, chairs, and the sink. I called the office, twice, and ran over with glee in the hope that a set that didn't quite sound right may in fact be mine. All for nought.
In the end, my husband couldn't go to work. The kids could not get to daycare, and I had to depend on the kindness of my coworkers to get me to and from a meeting. Now, I sit, dreading the eventual fact that they are gone. How much does it cost to replace fancy key-fobs? More than nothing, I can tell you that.
Please send finding thoughts my direction and in the direction of my wayward keys. With my luck, they will appear at precisely the moment I have finalized the purchase of their very expense replacement.
Well, I found them. They were INSIDE of a pair of B1's shoes. I had put them down on my shoe rack, which is made of wire, and the keys had fallen through the shelf, into the aforementioned shoe. Thanks, Murphy. That sucked.
ReplyDeleteThat "murphy" is a sly one! Glad you found your keys!
ReplyDeleteThis is the second Case of the Missing Car Keys. You clearly need a bowl of some type to always, always place them in when you come inside. Or a hook. Or a cup. SOMETHING! Also, a replacement set would be nice. :)
ReplyDelete