29 November 2011

My life as a lunatic space cadet misplacer of things.

Pick Gabriel and Elliot up from school.
After Elliot is retrieved by sister, do TINY amount of work.
Gather things to take Gabey to the park, which is a 5-10 minute walk from house, depending on pace or whatever.
My things for the park, if you are wondering, include my book, phone and keys.
Why do I love the park?
Because at the park, I can read for pleasure without being pestered OR feeling guilty that I'm not doing something else.
An hour into my zombie book, realize the sun is setting, start to mosey on home. 
About 40 seconds from home, start to fumble for my keys, and realize that I definitely DON'T have them.
Panicked walk back to the park at breakneck fear-induced speed.
Panicked hunt for keys in the semi-dark, with an ever growing group of skeezy park-at-dusk spectators (mostly hoodlemish teenagers, peppered with some bums).
Panicked walk back to my house, searching the ground along the way in case I somehow dropped them.
Confirmation that all my doors are locked.
Attempt to peer into my window and see if my keys are somehow on the key hook that I never use (please be on the key hook please be on the key hook).
Cannot see hook from window.
Luckily, I have my phone.
Call my mom, who is on a walk.
Send my 14yo brother after her on his bike to convey the severity of the situation.
In what is now full darkness, sink into Defeat Slump on the front steps.
Mope about inability to drive somewhere, or even walk somewhere for dinner while this situation resolves itself.
Curse self for never bringing wallet anywhere.
Or keys!
Sister calls, she was on walk with mom.
She wants confirmation that I really don't have my keys.
She is on her way.
It is a 40 minute drive.
With help on the way, sit Gabriel on my lap and take turns playing Angry Birds.
Thank god for my phone.
Get into house with sister's arrival.


Resolve to be less forgetful.

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