Back in the 1980s, I spent an inordinate amount of time looking for my keys when I would leave for work in the morning. My frustration culminated one day where I turned my apartment upside down looking for my keys -- even taking the sheets off the bed, finally giving up and thinking I'd just have to get a locksmith when I got home.
When I opened the front door of my apartment to leave, there were my keys, still in the lock, and there they had been all night long. It gave me some security to know my apartment is a safe place.
But I had learned my lesson -- I went out and bought a key holder which I have had ever since. The first thing I do when I open the front door -- back then and in this apartment -- is to hang up my keys and I am sure I have saved myself countless hours of searching.
When Marilyn was here on Tuesday, she emailed me later to say that she accidentally took my keys with her. No problem as I have another set hanging by the door.
When Barbara was here on Wednesday, she went out to get my mail. I paid no attention to my keys until she called me Thursday morning to say she accidentally took my keys with her.
So now I had no keys, really couldn't leave my apartment. Marilyn will return on Tuesday and Barbara is in Connecticut until Tuesday.
It's a weird thought to be "locked in" your apartment. The only thing I really cared about is that I couldn't take out the garbage and I do have food garbage.
So then on Friday, I had a delivery and I saw my keys hanging by the front door. What?? So I called Barbara and she described keys to me which sounded like my second set. Maybe I had three sets of keys. Maybe Marilyn mistook my keys for someone else's.
Of course, during this I had to fight the impulse to scold myself that I should have *another* set of keys, but where does that stop?
Ok, so we'll see what Marilyn had -- and now I have to take out the garbage!