My Worst Habit

Over my lifetime as a key holder, I would have to say I'm pretty lame about remembering to bring my keys with me. I have locked myself out of my running car at a bank ATM and at the gas pump. I have locked myself out of my car AND my house before work and witnessed a hit-and-run while I waited for the apartment office to open so I could get in. I locked myself and my sisters out of the house many times as a child but two notable moments show my craftiness because as much as my mom would probably disagree I didn't like to get in trouble: 1, the house we lived at when I was 13 had door in the garage that led inside the house. Since I forgot my key but the tools were in the garage, I found the screwdriver I needed and took the handle off the door so I could get in.  2, the house we lived in when I was 15 was raised after the flood in '82 and there was access to the crawlspace and basement on the outside of the foundation. I had to elude spiders and their webs, crawl through a hole in the foundation, climb down a very rickety handmade ladder, and climb the stairs, all in the dark, to break into the the house. I have given keys to neighbors, buried keys in "rocks," and installed a keypad to my front door...and still I have gotten locked out. I even fell from about 10 feet up {somehow managing to land on my feet and only bruising an arch} as the ladder I was on seemed to slide backwards in slow motion in my wet deck floor.

Definitely not a redeeming quality for someone that can remember the names, birthdays, and astrological signs of so many but can't seem to remember exactly where the keys went or why they aren't where they should be.

Rev Jessica Winter