I didn’t leave the house all weekend. I’ve now turned everything I own upside down and inside out. I’ve searched the house from the basement to the rafters. I searched the yard. I’ve searched my car. I’ve looked in the freezer, the oven, the dishwasher, the trash, and the bag of kitty litter I took out yesterday. I’ve looked under all the furniture. I’ve turned over every blanket, cushion, pillow, and comforter in the house. I’ve interrogated all the cats under sodium pentathol.
I’ve retraced every step I’ve taken in the last three days. My wife was the last person to drive the car, but I’ve used the keys since then to get into the locked basement. But I’ve turned that sumbitch inside out.
Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh. I have spares for the house and the car, but I have a load of keys on that keychain that go to locked labs at school, including four (4!) that were borrowed for a variety of purposes. Not to mention the keys to our screen doors (basically irreplaceable at this point,) and my dad’s house keys.
Dammit dammit dammit. I’m going to have to report all those keys lost, and see if I can have them replaced.
I’ve gotten so frustrated and paranoid that I’ve started having dark visions of some nefarious character sneaking into my basement and ignoring all the expensive musical equipment, but stealing my precious, precious keys.
Or maybe I left them outside, and the raccoons swiped 'em.
I can top you. I once freaked out that my car had been stolen because I was driving up–IN THE CAR–to the spot where I usually parked it, and it wasn’t there.
Siiiiiigh…already did. I’ve checked every lock in the house.
I know I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight. Man, this sucks.
(I suppose it’s possible I’m taking this too hard, but not being able to find my keys makes me feel all oogy and like the security of my house and possessions has been compromised.)
You’re not taking it to hard, because the security of your house and possessions HAS been compromised. So at least spare yourself the recriminations about over-reacting.
Just before you go to bed tonight, place a dish of milk and honey on a table somewhere. Announce firmly that this is a trade, and you want to see your keys on that table next to the dish when you wake up in the morning. Then go to bed.
Holy crap, I hope the school keys aren’t expensive, if your set is lost for good. Not sure how true it is (but it sounds plausible) that the keys at my work would cost over $1000 to replace. Everybody’s key opens everybody else’s office, plus the main door. One lost key could possibly entail replacing dozens of locks and keys.
Jesus christ, I hope not. Although if I must, I’ll pay it. I don’t think there’s any way to connect those keys to the school, since there aren’t any identifying marks on them, and the school is fifteen miles away.
Well, if it makes you feel any better, I once lost my keys from the ignition of my motorcycle after I was pulled over. I got four tickets, and never saw my keys again. One of them was for my work. The worst part was that they didn’t issue keys to students without getting the student’s boss, the head of the department, and the director to sign for it. I was supposed to turn it in when I left, but they gave me a diploma without asking for it. I’m still technically a student of that university, that’s probably why nothing ever came of it.
(it’s a very fun, cool Danielle Dax song.) I was just blaming the Inky Bloaters for tying my earbud cords into knots. I take them off, wind them loosely and gently around my fingers and put them in my purse. But when I go to take them out to put them on, they’re in knots that would make a sailor proud and take 10 minutes to unravel!
After several months of my keys being lost (and I hadn’t yet admitted it to my friends whose keys I happen to have) I happened to sit in the backseat of my own car (something I never do) and lo and behold waaaaaaay back under the driver’s seat were my keys.
Unfortunately, it’s not so easy. Pockets are empty.