Short post but I am still giggling about it.
In the middle of a worldwide crisis, where we are only meant to go out for essential work, for food and for an hours exercise, I pick this very suitable moment to be stranded in my street without my house keys.
Oh yes – why would this not happen?! For someone so careful with keys, why not bloody lose them? Well in line with my usual defiance of the norm – my subconscious, or stupid conscious, figured this was the right time to do just that.
Saturday morning: spent cleaning (I hate cleaning) and washing work clothes for next weeks anticipated long hours.
Saturday late morning: Ooh I am finally an organised person even though it has taken a pandemic to kick my arse into gear.
Saturday lunchtime: I shall go to Tesco and buy my essentials. I will queue. I will encounter polite people (socially distant). I will encounter stupid people. I will get my stock of prosseco (alcohol is essential in Scotland and we will happily admit it), bread and woohoo I managed to get flour. As an aside – the flour will get used to bake stuff with. I should also add is clearly the measure of a crisis in my book. I baked last year and normally only do it every 10 or so years.
Saturday just after lunchtime: Where are my keys? I can’t get in my house if I don’t have them. This is not a good time to not have keys. My spares are with my parents who really shouldn’t be getting in the car and coming to my flat to let me in. So I swore (cursed). A lot. A lot of fucks were shouted at myself in the middle of Edinburgh. People probably heard me a mile away since it is pretty quiet now that people are staying indoors. I couldn’t care though. If ever there was a time to have a shit fit it is now!
Saturday just just after lunchtime: buzzed my neighbour after the realisation that since I locked my door on the way out my keys are most likely in the communal bin on the street along with my rubbish. A big bin (dumpster if you are reading this in certain areas). I am not tall. I would fall in and wouldn’t get back out. That would also not be a good situation in the current crisis. No one would touch me to pull me out. Shit Shit Shit! So my neighbour was shouted at to give me step ladders…NOW!!! More fucks shouted.
Saturday at a time I now want to repress: ladder in hand and continual swearing (cursing) loudly I head back out. A few folk are in the street with their shopping. They stop to stare. I don’t care! I open the big bin…I look inside…my fucking (sorry) keys are sitting just on top of the bin bag I threw in on the way to Tesco. Thank the anyone the bin was full enough and they had landed just right. They hadn’t snaked there way to the bottom of the bin. Hallleeehbloooodythankee.
Saturday at a time I now giggle about: So step ladder in hand which I no longer need – I now look like a mad woman. I was swearing like a mad woman. I give it a final hummmmppphh. A bit of a yaaaaaayyyyy. I refrain from doing a wee dance. I then take the ladders and my keys into my house and hide. I laugh. Fuck me if there is ever a time to have a key crisis it is not now!!
Header Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash