If brains were dyn-o-mite...

I nearly pulled off the loss of my lifetime. Friday morning as I prep for the drive to Tahoe, I realize I cannot find the keys to my Buick. This could be due to the fact that I NEVER drive. I tear apart my room- nada. I shakedown all purses, book bags, etc.- no dice. I frisk my desk drawers to no avail. Crap. What would I have done with them? How am I getting to Tahoe? How/Why am I picking up an new Aussie mate from the airport? How pissed are the parking lot guards and my Buick going to be at me when they realize that I have just stranded a 2 ton hunk of metal in the lot... for good?!

I flip out on my own irresponsibility, almost get hit by a car and realize that I just need to breath. My Mum always tells me that if you start to lose your grip on things you should just sit down and recollect. Like I told my friend EP, it all boils down to me being so unorganized I shoot myself in the foot. And frankly, I am running out of toes to lose in this careless firearm maze called life. I threw a shout out to St. Anthony, patron of things lost. And then my oh-so-kind roomie D let me borrow her VW for the run to Tahoe- yay!!!

So I get to work today and something tells me to look in my top drawer. The very SAME drawer that my officemate and I cleared out... and both sets of missing keys (the ones to the Bu and my apt. keys) were right on top!!!!!!! Either someone was gallivanting in my car and heard that I was onto their gig or that St. Anthony jazz really works. Either way- phew!!