I’m about to leave the house and I notice I’m a couple of minutes late. Okay, that is not that big of a deal, I know, especially because I always leave the house with enough time to be where I’m supposed to be at least 5 minutes early. Still…
So I start looking around for my keys. I can’t find them. They are not by the back door where I always put them. I pat my pocket. Of course, they’re in my pockets. I left the house earlier in the morning (as in still-too-dark-outside early) and kept them in my pocket.
I reach for the door knob to open the door. It doesn’t open. Well, this shouldn’t surprise me, since I didn’t even unlock the door yet.
I unlock the door and leave. Then I remember my cell phone. I go back in. I can’t find it. I look at the normal spots where it should be and nothing. Then I look at my left hand. Oh, there it is! I’m already holding it.
I finally leave the house (for real this time and by now I’m really late) and shake my head.
Apparently waking up at 3:30 a.m. can transform you into a grandma looking for glasses that are right under her nose.
P.S.: I arrived at work 3 minutes late. Say WHAT?