I went through a harrowing experience today, a description of which, though redundant, will probably make interesting reading. So, read on.
I'm an all or nothing guy since I keep all my keys in the same bunch. (It's much easier to take care of). That makes sense, provided, of course, that the keys are not lost. If you lose the bunch, then all the advantages disappear. You're locked out of your apartment, you mail box, your safe and your office.
I'll start at the beginning, usually a decent place to start. This approach causes minimum obfuscation.
Noticing a certain blobbiness and rotundity in my general aspect, I decided to shed a few kilos in the recreation center. So, I went in attired in those exercise trousers which have shallow pockets that, when loaded with keys, act like springs. So, when I was making a fool of myself by sweating on the exercise machines (for no-one plays any game with me yet), the spring sprung to life, so to speak, sending the key tumbling Nor' Nor' West, presumably. I continued the toil blisfully unaware of this bereavement.
After switching to another type of machine (I like to delude myself into thinking that I am exercising all the parts of my body), suddenly, a feeling dawned on me. There was no jingling feeling in my pocket. (My mp3 player made sure that I was deaf to the outside world for all practical purposes, so the lack of a jingling sound would not be expected to register.) It was a feeling of icy emptiness. No keys.
I haunted the library a few minutes before this expedition to the rec-center. I reckoned the keys could have been dropped in the library. But the weather gods decided to do exacerbate the situation. They sent a cold front accompanied by a squall line over me. Rain was raining. A few more agonizing mintues were spent (eating cookies that tasted like, well, radish) in the rec-center. Finally, a trip was made back to the library. A thorough search was conduted within the library. No keys. And the female at the counter said "Sorry. No one turned in any key". She did not sound as if she was really sorry.
A disappointed me found my way back home. I rode my cycle back slowly. I stopped by anything shiny on the way, thinking it was my key. No luck. No key. I was tense. Worried. I had one of those headaches. I had had lofty plans of completing homework. That wasn't going to happen.
Luckily, my roomie was at home, so I did not have to sleep outside the house, I reckoned. I found my way in, had some dinner and turned on my laptop (worried about that too, since I had walked in the rain with the laptop on by mack).
Then, as an afterthought, I decided to call up the rec- center and see if they had my keys.
They did. Some good samaritan probably turned them in. A relieved self will collect the keys from them tomorrow.
Some measures have to be taken to make sure the keys don't lose themselves again. Should I swallow them and vomit them whenever required? Better suggestions are sought.
I'm an all or nothing guy since I keep all my keys in the same bunch. (It's much easier to take care of). That makes sense, provided, of course, that the keys are not lost. If you lose the bunch, then all the advantages disappear. You're locked out of your apartment, you mail box, your safe and your office.
I'll start at the beginning, usually a decent place to start. This approach causes minimum obfuscation.
Noticing a certain blobbiness and rotundity in my general aspect, I decided to shed a few kilos in the recreation center. So, I went in attired in those exercise trousers which have shallow pockets that, when loaded with keys, act like springs. So, when I was making a fool of myself by sweating on the exercise machines (for no-one plays any game with me yet), the spring sprung to life, so to speak, sending the key tumbling Nor' Nor' West, presumably. I continued the toil blisfully unaware of this bereavement.
After switching to another type of machine (I like to delude myself into thinking that I am exercising all the parts of my body), suddenly, a feeling dawned on me. There was no jingling feeling in my pocket. (My mp3 player made sure that I was deaf to the outside world for all practical purposes, so the lack of a jingling sound would not be expected to register.) It was a feeling of icy emptiness. No keys.
I haunted the library a few minutes before this expedition to the rec-center. I reckoned the keys could have been dropped in the library. But the weather gods decided to do exacerbate the situation. They sent a cold front accompanied by a squall line over me. Rain was raining. A few more agonizing mintues were spent (eating cookies that tasted like, well, radish) in the rec-center. Finally, a trip was made back to the library. A thorough search was conduted within the library. No keys. And the female at the counter said "Sorry. No one turned in any key". She did not sound as if she was really sorry.
A disappointed me found my way back home. I rode my cycle back slowly. I stopped by anything shiny on the way, thinking it was my key. No luck. No key. I was tense. Worried. I had one of those headaches. I had had lofty plans of completing homework. That wasn't going to happen.
Luckily, my roomie was at home, so I did not have to sleep outside the house, I reckoned. I found my way in, had some dinner and turned on my laptop (worried about that too, since I had walked in the rain with the laptop on by mack).
Then, as an afterthought, I decided to call up the rec- center and see if they had my keys.
They did. Some good samaritan probably turned them in. A relieved self will collect the keys from them tomorrow.
Some measures have to be taken to make sure the keys don't lose themselves again. Should I swallow them and vomit them whenever required? Better suggestions are sought.
1 comment:
Hi
You can keep a spare home key at lab and vice versa...provided you have a spare key :)
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