As tantrums go, yesterday's was a beauty... scoring at least a 7 on the 10 point Trantrum Scale and leaving a trail of destruction in its wake that will take days, and perhaps months to clean up.
I was running late. The weather had been more suited to ark building than going to the office, and the shirt I'd just ironed had a stain on the last panel to go under the steam. (Why does that always happen... the shirt thing?)
So where are my keys? They're usually on the little table right next to the front door. That's a strategy I developed a very long time ago... open door... enter house... place keys on table. I know from experience that if I don't do that, they could end up anywhere.
I looked down at the designated key point and they weren't there. "Farque", or words to that effect. "I don't have time for this."
I tried the coffee table. I tried the desk in my home office. I tried the bathroom. I tried the kitchen benchtop. No keys.
So I did what anyone would do... I threw a full blown tantrum, yelling at myself... calling myself stupid, hopeless and a few more colourful things that generally indicated that I am not worthy. I started to empty drawers, push contents of the desk onto the floor, and tear the cushions off the lounge. "Ransacked" would be the descriptor.
This was a full ten minute tantie, and when there was no more havoc to wreak, I calmed down, said something like "stuff it", and headed off to the fridge for a Chocolate Royal (one of those chocolate covered marshmellow things).
And there were my keys... sitting right next to the cheese, on the shelf above the confectionary.
Words aren't going to describe the feeling.
11 comments:
But of couse they were there, who doesn't keep their cheese & their keys together?
Yes Mouse. I know. It should have been the first place I looked... and it will be from now on.
It's always the cheese, isn't it?
I too have a key strategy, for the same exact reason. When I don't find them, however, I totally freeze. I just stand in the middle of the living room, wide-eyed and panicked, and try in vain to retrace my steps. Usually, I don't even remember having the keys at all and wonder if it's possible to have lost them somewhere in the world and yet have managed to open my door to get in the day before.
Anyway, frozen panic is about as effective in locating the keys as a tantrum. But from now, I'll know to begin at the cheese.
Funny story, Chester.
Interestingly, last week I lost my cheese - and guess where I ended up finding it... Yup, by my keys.
The Gods of OK HE'S LOOKED LONG ENOUGH FOR HIS KEYS work in mysterious ways. They made you expend energy weakening your system just enough for you to crave the chocolate thing and thusly find your keys.
I left my wallet beside the cheese and they pulled the same stunt on me.
Okay, are you telling me your keys were in the fridge?
I mean, I can see that, because you don't want hot keys. Having put a hot key in my mouth (kind of a third hand sometimes), I can tell you it's not much fun.
:-)
Pitfinder, I don't even want to kno-...no, ok, I do. How did you end up putting a hot key in your mouth??
I laugh i laugh ,I love your stories.and Pifinder is a wonderful mysterious key eater from way back.
You are a beaut!
I have several sets of spare keys (about 5 sets of housekeys, two sets of car keys and two sets of Vespa keys, to be precise). When i can't find my keys I run over to the spare key bag, grab a spare set, shake my fist in the air, and with a fabulously smug look on my face, declare victory over the bastard set of keys that has tried to outwit me. Take that! Ha!
But Willsie, what do you do when you 've run out of spare sets?
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