Lately I've been losing a lot of things. Usually, I just misplace things in the house. I pick something up while thinking of something else, get distracted and bingo, gonzo!
This time, I've lost things outside the house. Big deal things. Like my house keys. I was at a convenience store using a ATM and was searching through my bag for my wallet. It turns out that I left it at home, beside my bag but didn't put it in because I got distracted by a conversation with my husband. Anyhow, I guess during my search, I put my keys on the ATM. I have NO memory of doing this.
I left the convenience store, went to the gym and buzzed the apartment because I was too lazy to dig around for my key.
Cue leaving the apartment the next day. I've been making an effort to make leaving the house less a flurry of panic. I decided I'd pack up my stuff an hour before I was going to leave then do make-up or something until it was time to go. But no keys. I looked everywhere in the house and even pulled out furniture, dumped my gym bag three times, tossed my coat pockets a million times. No keys. So no going out to meet my husband for dinner.
I think about where the keys could have been and I decide that I had put them in my shoes at the gym which was a completely false memory as I had already forgotten my keys. But the gym was closed the day I discover I have no keys. I borrow my husband's keys for the day as I leave last and will be home first and wait for the next day to call the gym.
The gym has no keys. Dang.
I can't copy the key because it is a copy and it is some stupid high-tech key that is hard to copy off the original.
I finally decide to ask at the convenience store even though I am sure my key is not there. It is. Huh. I am completely elated but way puzzled.
Yesterday I went jogging and brought my drycleaning slip to pick up clothes after I'm finished running. I put them in a pocket. I don't zip the pocket with the slip because nothing has ever fallen out of that pocket in the four years I have worn those pants. I zip the key pocket, though; because even if I can trust the pants, I can't trust they key. I can't chance the key.
I get to the drycleaners and voila! No slip. It's fallen out of my pocket. The drycleaner is not happy because it will take forever to find the stuff and if someone brings in the slip they could take the clothes. Yikes.
I go home and get on my bike and retrace the route. You know where I find the slip? In front of the convenience store that I forgot my keys at. I never even went in the store. I just happened to run past it. Of all the places on my thirty minute jog for the paper to fall out... It's like returning to the scene of a crime.
How weird is that? Is it me or is their something sinister about that convenience store so innocently named "Family Mart"?