I went to Oregon for Thanksgiving with my mother, father, two brothers, sister, brother-in-law, and fiance. Another brother rendezvoused with us. We stayed for three days. This evening we returned to Idaho, in separate cars. As we pulled up to my apartment, I checked my pocket for the keys. Not there. Nor, as far as I could find, anywhere else. My fiance helped me look; took my computer bag out and searched it, as I searched my backpack, but all search was vain. I got back in my sister and brother-in-law’s car; my fiance left for Sandpoint. My brother, returning in the other vehicle, had a key; no keys for work, but at least I would be able to get into my dwelling.
Some time later, with my sister’s in-laws, waiting for my brother, I decided to search my computer bag again. Only the computer bag had now gone missing; the last time I had seen it, it was outside, being searched. Suddenly the loss of the keys was put in perspective; keys are fairly replaceable, even if one does need to get them to get into one’s mailbox, dwelling, office, office building, etc. A computer, with three almost-done term papers shimmering in its memory, (along with countless other files) and its bag, also containing the notes and research for said term papers (and 15 graded student essays), is not a good thing to lose three weeks from graduation. I began to wonder: would I have time to re-do all that work in three weeks? Given the missing research, it was not likely. But perhaps the computer was still sitting outside my apartment. Omaha steaks had been stolen off my doorstep on more than one occasion, but maybe the college students wandering by would consider stealing a computer bad karma. Or maybe nobody would have noticed it yet. My brother-in-law jumped in the car and drove back into town to see.
It was still there. So I am typing on it. And I still care less about my missing keys.