Three-hundred and twenty-nine days later, I found the Box of Keys. I wasn’t looking for them, of course. Instead, I was trying to find cold medicine or maybe something else. I can’t remember. It doesn’t matter.
What matters is the fact that I found the Box of Keys. Back in the day, I very helpfully marked the clear plastic box with a Sharpie marker–“KEYS WITHOUT HOMES”–as if it weren’t obvious that a bunch of random keys had no permanent homes.
When I spotted the Box of Keys at the very top corner of the upper cabinet shelf behind two bottles of Advil (one expired, one A-okay) I said, “There they are!” I stood on tippy-toes and pulled that box down with great glee.
I couldn’t remember why I’d ever wanted them, though. Is this my new life? I spend frantic minutes searching for things I can’t find and then I find things but I can’t remember why I cared in the first place?
I actually did a search of my blog to figure out why the keys had seemed urgent. I found my blog from June 5, 2013 and then I remembered the padlock situation. (My son started a job and needed a padlock and I found the padlocks but couldn’t find a key.)
I am actively resisting the urge to find the padlocks. I suspect I would not immediately be able to find them and that would lead to another semi-panicked, frustrating game of It Was Right There Why Can’t I Find It.
My husband would never have a box of keys without homes. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: his ideal living situation is a dorm room with beige walls and an extra-large bookshelf. He does not save things “just in case.” I like to think that I balance his tendency to throw away perfectly good stuff, but the truth is that I probably drive him a little crazy with my drawers of doodads and boxes of doohickeys and all those shoes I don’t really wear. (Let’s not discuss my laundry room.)
I have boxes of cords that belong to electronics that we may or may not own.
I have a queen-sized air mattress that was purchased 17 years ago and used once.
I have a hamster cage I bought at a garage sale–it was such a deal–but we’ve never owned a hamster.
And so on and so forth.
But listen, if we ever get a hamster, we don’t have to buy a cage! And if we ever live in houses we once lived in before, we won’t have to get spare keys! And if you come to my house, I can offer you an air mattress upon which to sleep.
I have an air compressor somewhere so we can pump it up. Just give me a little time so I can figure out where I left it. (It’s lost. Probably in a box in the garage.)
4 thoughts on “329 Days Later”
oh my…that is so funny. i have been cleaning and i thought i pitched a roll of postage stamps…but at last i found them this morning, in the back of a drawer i had searched several times!!
Sue is a “We might be able to use this sometime” type of gal. I mean, who really needs to save half an onion?
So real and shared with humor! Thanks Mel…now I don’t feel so badly about my bag of keys, box of assorted currency and the “stuff” we relocate with every move. Diane
The hamster cage that lived in my storage room for some months lives on? Funny. And your keys remind me – just a few years ago, I finally got rid of the bicycle lock (the bicycle has been gone for 40 or 50 years, probably) that was locked shut and needed a combination to open it. It was a good lock, and I just knew I could find a need for it, so I had kept it all those years. The other day, I found the combination in a stack of old business cards I also collected for years. So if you have a combination lock lying around, I have a combination that might work. Or not.