Oh, do I have a story for you, Reader!
The good news is that I’ve already done the dumbest thing of my life, and so at least I got it out of the way. The bad news is that you have to pay consequences when you do dumb things; the dumbest thing in your life, well those consequences are pretty intense. And dumb. Guess what I did…
I lost my keys. I lost my keys. I lost ’em. (the keys.) Lost. my. keys. The keys- my keys. They’re gone. I lost them. I lost my keys. I LOST MY KEYS!
Alright, maybe it wouldn’t have been the dumbest thing ever if I’d lost them when my roommates, or any of my friends, actually, were in town. But being the genius that I claim to be, I lost them night before the day before Janie departed at 7:30 a.m. Oh, yes I did. And I guess that wouldn’t have been so terrible if I didn’t have to be at work that same day, some five hours later. But I did. Oh, yes I did.
I guess you’re wondering what happened: How is it, for Pete’s Sake, that I lost something so vital to my productivity and success in life? Well, I just don’t know, Internet. Let me know when you figure it out.Actually, scratch that. Stop looking for the answer and just look for my keys. Chances are, they’re somewhere near you because they most definitely are nowhere near me. But if there’s a shiny, sparkly silver lining in a situation, especially when the situation is caused by, um, me, I like to try to find it.
Lessons Learned from Doing Something Dumb, Especially but not Limited to Losing Your Keys:
1. Everyone does dumb things. This is difficult to remember while you’re paying $40 for a locksmith to insert a
sketchy clothes hanger professional contraption into your car window, but it’s true. At least that’s what everyone keeps telling me.
2.Since everyone does dumb things, people understand. And forgive. And drive you around, if your dumb thing is of the “Now I Don’t Have Transportation” variety.
3. Sometimes the best way to deal with something is to wait and see in the morning.
4. Painting is therapeutic.
5. Please, for the sake of everyone involved, laugh. You can cry, sure, that’s okay, but get that over with and then try your darndest to craft every joke possible from the situation. (People are much less likely to kill you if they’re laughing. I speak from personal experience.)
I’m proud to say we’re all still alive.
So you might be interesting in hearing how I got my
groove keys back. The short answer: I didn’t. Coston, the young lad in the above photos, and I spent hours searching for them. We retraced all of my steps. We went places I didn’t go, just in case the wind blew my lanyard through the front door. We looked everywhere. We never found my keys. If we ever do, I would happily bestow upon them the Most Stealth Inanimate Object of 2011 award.
So I went straight to Plan B. I did not pass go or collect $200.
I called a locksmith. That didn’t work.
And so I went to the car dealership. Wrong answer.
I got towed. I was almost there!
And finally, by the good grace of Jesus, my father and Chris the Nissan Dealership Guy, who happened to cut the very last key and program it to my car exactly 13 minutes before closing time, all was well. Problem solved. Mostly, anyway.
P.S. Crazy wonderful special appreciation to all of the people who reminded me that people do dumb things, and who understood enough to listen to my jokes and drive me around.