It happened last night. Jerry was out of town and I was coming home by myself after working late. (Yes, all that bitching about Jerry being the one who’s always working long hours and the second he leaves town my workload triples.) Mrs. B raced me to the door like she always does. Already weighed down weighed down with my purse and other loot, I grabbed the slippery pile of CVS ads out of the mailbox, stuck my key in the door, turned the knob and walked in the house. I took the key out of the door knob. I had the key in my hand and when I walked into the house and when I dropped the slippery pile of CVS ads on the countertop the key was gone. Gone! It was no longer in my hand. It had evaporated into thin air. I swear!
I panicked. What the hell happened? Did I black out or something? I frantically started looking through my purse. I sifted through the pile of CVS ads. I picked each piece of newsprint up and jiggled it, expecting my house key to fall out or something. I crawled around on the floor. I looked under the welcome mat – 50 times! When Jerry called from his Las Vegas hotel I was outside in the front yard peering in the grass weeds with a flashlight.
“I lost my house key!” I wailed. After I haphazardly explained that no, I wasn’t locked out of the house but rather was simply crazy and didn’t know what I did with the key once I got in the house and then assured him that I wouldn’t burn the house down next, I hung up the phone, turned off the flashlight and went back into the house. And then without even realizing what I was doing I stuck my hand in the side pocket of my gym bag and viola! The key fell back into my hand.
All this to say…what? Well…if my gym bag hadn’t been weighing me down none of this would have happened. See? Working out is a real pain in the ass!
Hey” funny thing happened to me the other day that was just the same, except it was my wedding ring instead of a key. I had just come in from getting the mail, tossed out the junk, then grabbed something out of the refrigerator. As I started to make a sandwich, I realized my ring was no longer on. Like you, I looked all around, etc. and it wasn’t until I had given up and returned to get something else out of the refrigerator that I noticed my ring was sitting on a plate of leftovers. It had somehow slipped right off my finger. Strange.
Your wedding ring? Eeeek! Random forgetfulness must be in the air. Maybe because everyone is so busy.
Part of the problem is that I’ve lost enough weight that it slides off my finger rather easily.