So, I was literally standing outside my door today, already late to a work meeting, when I realized that I had no keys to lock the front door. Or of course drive my car into work.
I ran back into the house looking for them in the couple of the obvious places I sometimes put my keys other than my purse. Nope. And nope. I dug through my purse again. No keys. So, I started looking around. Twenty minutes later, having gone through my laundry basket (did I leave them in a pocket?), pulled every cushion off the couch, and combed through the obvious locations in Mom’s room, I still had no keys.
At that point, I was truly late to my meeting. I ran for the bus and made the second half. No worries, I thought, I will find the keys tonight.
Well, tonight has come and gone, and I am now clearer on just how many parts of my house need cleaning. I have checked in every nook and cranny — in every drawer in Mom’s room, the kitchen cabinets, into any container that appears larger enough to hold keys including Mom’s winter boots and the purse she has not carried in more than a year. I have discovered my bag of travel toiletries, which I did not realize was missing and my work security pass card, which I did know was missing and was pleased to find. What I have not discovered is my keys.
And to think that Mom was once the most organized person I knew.