Dude, Where’s My Keys?

It all happened this morning after I hung out with my friend Katrina and my brother Allen. (Names have been changed to protect the embarrassed). Anyway, onto the story. I passed out early while my friend and brother stayed up and talked (and by talked I mean random drunken slurring). I awoke this morning at 5:30 am lying on my purse, smashed against the wood-paneled wall of Katrina’s living room. In a dizzy (and quite possibly still drunken) stupor, I headed for the restroom. Once out, I gathered my belongings and tried to head home to get some sleep in my own bed.

...my keys were nowhere to be found…

I searched in vain for 20 minutes in the dark, with only a small light to illuminate my path, before trying to wake Katrina. No such luck. I shook her violently, said her name over and over, and even brought in a herd of wild elephants, but to no avail. The good news was that I could turn on the lights and also not have to be so quiet. The bad news is that she couldn’t tell me if she knew where my keys were. I continued searching in all places you would think it’s a good idea to put a set of keys while intoxicated (the microwave, the shower, the ficus, etc.).

…40 minutes later…

I’d been searching for my keys for an hour and she only lives two miles or so from my house, so I decided, “Screw it, I’m walking.” Last night I was just going to my friend’s house, so I wore flip flops and my pajamas there. I had also taken a bunch of typical sleepover things in a big bag…heavy things…but no change of clothes. Anyone who has had alcohol knows that when you sober up, you are very thirsty. Katrina had given me a red plastic “party cup” the night before, so I was drinking water out of that while I searched for my missing keys. I refilled my cup…and set off on my journey home.

So at this point it is 40 degrees, I am walking home on a very busy street in red Mutts pajama pants, flip flops and a trench coat while carrying a red plastic “party cup” and a large duffel bag. I wouldn’t have looked more suspicious if I were walking sideways down the middle of the street while lighting a crack pipe. People actually slowed their cars to stare at the crazy girl.

I FINALLY make it home after walking 2 miles (have you ever tried walking that far in flip flops and thin pajama pants at 6:30 am while it’s 40 degrees? I don’t recommend it). This is when I realize…I have no house keys. They’re on the same key ring as my truck keys.

It’s about 7:00 am now and I’m exhausted, hung-over and FREEZING. I’m sick and I’m sure this could not have helped matters. I dropped my bag on the doorstep and sat down in defeat. That’s when I remembered Eric telling me a few weeks ago of a hidden key somewhere in the yard!

...but where?

My husband is at work without his phone…of course. Why does he even have that phone, I can never get ahold of him when I need him! …but I digress. I finally find the key taped under a rooster’s butt in the garden and let myself in. I get in socks, a long sleeve shirt, and get under 3 blankets, but I am still shivering hard. I finally realize there’s a reason we have a heater and turn it on. Comfortable at last.

Best part? Needing some sympathy and/or some “kiss and make it betters,” I told my husband my tale of woe when he returned from work. …he got mad at me for making my cold worse.

Moral of the Story: Stay in school.