A story to help explain why I make my life so very difficult.
My car key resides on a different chain than my home/work keys. Because they are best friends they are typically together. Sometimes they separate. If you think this causes them some anxiety, try to imagine how I feel.
Several times I have driven home in the evening only to discover I’ve left my home/work keys at work. Now I can’t get into my home and I can’t get back into work to get my house key. Instead of sleeping in my car, I drive to a nearby shareholder’s home and ask to borrow his key (and I’m sure he is thinking “we hired this moron?!?”). The last time I showed up his eight-year-old daughter said “Hi, did you forget your key again?” as she answered the door. Instant. Shame.
Knowing all of this, the other day I was walking out of work and I paused. My car key is in my hand, but where is my home/work key. I’m 95% sure I’ve left those in my car, so I can just let the work door shut and walk to my car. But I’m a nervous 95% (which is more like an actual 82%). I think, I can grab a rock and prop the door to go make sure the keys are in my car. A sensible idea.
But then the thought: ‘Look you coward, the keys are in the car. If you prop the door, then confirm they are in the car, you will have to go back and remove the rock. That will take less than a minute and you are too busy for that. Plus, you’re too smart to screw this up again.’ And I can’t help but agree (my 95% is starting to feel more like a solid 95%).
But I pause still; I linger with my work’s front door ajar. I could go back into work and see if the keys are on your desk. Then the thought: ‘Go look back inside, WHAT! NFW, I’m telling you the keys are in the car, and I’m you. Can’t you trust yourself? It was a rhetorical question, go to the car and stop wasting my time.’
My fingers reluctantly let the handle slide away and gravity begins to pull the door shut. Instant panic: ‘Do you really want to show up again at his front door and again ask for the key?” I lunge and grab the door handle before it closes. I’m safe, I grab a rock and prop the door open. I even get a step away. ‘So this is what it has come to, eh? Might as well return your Man Card. You are a disgrace.’
Well, I don’t want to be a disgrace, so I turn back around, kick the stone away and confidently walk to my car as the work door slams shut. My home/work keys are nowhere to be found in the car. And I am once again forced to drive to the shareholder’s home to borrow his work key.