Losing My Keys: A Bad Day That, In Retrospect, Wasn't So Bad

You know the feeling. You've lost your keys. Now you can't get into your house, car, or any number of places. Well, yesterday the same thing happened to me. As soon as I got to campus I was surprised to realize that my keys, in all their jingly goodness, were NOT in my coat pocket like I believed them to be. I mumbled a certain expletive deleted and locked my bike up. This began what was one of the most needlessly stressful days of my life.

I immediately thought that my keys fell out of my coat pocket. Now, had I been rational, I'd have realized that I've never had my keys fall out of my pocket without hearing them delightfully jingle to the ground. And if I'd been even more rational, I'd have remembered that I've been riding my bike to and from campus for roughly 4 years now and never once have had my keys fall out of any jacket. But I was not being rational. I daresay I was being irrational.

So my first thoughts were of my keys, falling, in slow motion, from my pocket, only to land in the nearby creek and be swept away, never to be seen again. Which makes perfect sense, of course. I ride my bike through a park that has a path next to a creek. And by next to a creek, I mean about 20 feet away from a creek. So somehow, my keys would have had to launch themselves from my pocket and soar the 20 feet to the creek and then somehow become weightless enough to be swept away by the actually pretty stagnant water.

But I was already late for my recitation. I couldn't go back to look! And it'd be dark the next time I would be able to go back and look. Curses! I begrudgingly made my way to class and grumbled some more inappropriate words to myself. Or at least I hope those words were quiet enough that it could be considered "to myself" and not "loud enough that people think I'm crazy."

I ran on auto pilot through my recitation. Barely distracted enough not to think about my keys. Man, now I'll have to replace all of them! That's the 2 house keys, the mail key, the key for my broken car, the key to my brother's broken car, the keys to my parent's house... In my second class I turned in what was perhaps the harshest class survey I've ever turned in. I actually put disagree in some categories rather than neutral. I feel so dirty.

Well f....dang, I thought to myself, my USB drive is on my keys too! Now I can't save all the hilarious pictures I find on the interne- I mean save all the important powerpoint presentations and spreadsheets I have. One more thing to worry about. One more thing to make me moody. I was somewhat snippy with the guy at the Bagel Place when he took forever with my card. This whole key situation was turning me into a monster!

In a moment of clarity, I texted my roommates to see when/if they'd be home today. Maybe I just left my keys on my desk and they could check for me. Hold on, I usually give myself a quick pat down to check I have the necessities (wallet, phone, keys, ....iPod) I must have dropped them! But I had to try! Maybe I just thought my keys were in my coat because my gloves were also in that pocket. They're probably nestled comfortably on my desk next to all my awesome desk chotchkies. My roommate Jeff said he wouldn't be home until 4:30. That's when I start work. Now I'll never know where my keys are! And by never I mean I won't know until then!

I scarfed down a bagel or two with my buddy Rob from class. He was having a great day, he told me. "Well I'm glad everything's turning up Rob today, but I lost my keys!" I complained at him, "And my phone's battery is almost dead! Which bothers me for some reason!" Despite my complaining, Rob still had a good day.

At precisely 4:16, I received a text: "No luck my man." My heart sank. KEYS! Why Have you forsaken me! I angrily tore off my coat. The anger had caused me to perspire. I knew I should have worn a lighter coat. *GASP* I had worn a lighter coat! At least before I left the house I had! It was on my bed! A quick text to Jeff. The longest minute in my life waiting in reply hoping my phone had enough juice to receive one last text message......

"Luck. Found em" HUZZAH! I've triumphed over .... adversity? Well, not really. I've triumphed over something that was sure. I looked around to see if any one was looking and did a jump and heel click. Crap, people were looking. But I don't care! My keys are waiting for me at home! Nothing could get me down! I had survived being unable to enter my home and therefore I had survived being homeless.

Work was a blur of helping people print and looking at time wasting stuff on the Internet (mostly the latter). I pedaled home at my leisure and found my keys, on my bed, next to the jacket I should have worn. As my phone weakly vibrated to indicate it's near-dead battery, I hooked it up to the charger, happily jingled my keys, and grabbed myself an orange cream soda. Because I deserved it. Probably.

I Freak Out When I Haven't Eaten Anything In A While: Existential Hunger Crisis

They say that pain is weakness leaving the body. But then what's weakness? Or if you're weak from the pain or painfully weak, is that more pain or more weakness which is more pain....? I have no clue, but I do know that when I'm weakened from the pain of hunger I go slightly mad.

As a busy (read: lazy) college student, I never seem to have enough time to eat proper meals. Don't misunderstand me, I eat plenty. The frequency of my meals is what throws a wrench in the cogs of my mental well-being. It's a glorious day when I can get 3 squares, however I usually only manage about 1.5 meals a day, so I'm running on about half efficiency. But on the days (like today) where I have no breaks between work and class and I get suckered into covering someone's shift after mine, I end up getting about one meal in as I slowly go insane over the course of 7 hours and question every aspect of my life more and more as time crawls on.


What I believe to be the connection between my hunger and existential crises is the physical emptiness of my stomach somehow being interpreted as emptiness of life by my famished brain. So to keep my mind alert, I often imbibe copious amounts of everyone's favorite stimulant: caffeine. And let me tell you:
caffeine + hunger = more hunger.

Case and point: I recall a day this past month where I just had a cup of coffee before heading out into the world. In about an hour I was doing all I could from breaking down and curling into fetal position, slowly rocking back and forth, weeping, while lamenting the "terrible" choices I've made in life. "Why did I choose this major?" "Why didn't I do this homework sooner?" "OH GOD, WHY DID I WEAR THAT SHIRT? IT'S PURPLE AND PLAID AND EVERYONE KNOWS PURPLE IS STUPID AND PLAID IS....ALSO STUPID!"

On the other hand, one day I actually ate breakfast and felt like I was on top of the world! Nothing could get me down! Bad grade on a quiz? No problem, there'll be another one! The back wheel of my bike is bent? Now it makes a delightful squeaking noise as it rubs against my breaks that I'm sure will never get old! Bored at work? TO THE INTERNET FOR FUNNY PICTURES OF CATS!

Your guess is as good as mine as to why I would ever not eat breakfast. (My guess is laziness. Did you guess that? No? Hmph. I guess your guess wasn't as good as mine.) But as I desperately scramble through life, I'll probably eventually realize that they weren't lying when they said breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

So I guess the moral of this blog post is: eat your Wheaties. Actually, wait. Wheaties are disgusting. Eat something for breakfast that's not gross and is appropriate for the morning meal. Like a bagel. Or some fruit. Wow this is kind of a mouthful for a succinct moral. Let's shorten it: EAT FOOD.

Stuff I Think About While Riding My Bike

I ride my bike to and from school every day. Sometimes twice for work. And the way I go usually is devoid of traffic save for a few intersections, but it still takes about a half an hour to get where I'm going. That's 2 hours of riding on some days. So I have plenty of time to think about strange stuff, and boy does my mind think of the weirdest things when it's allowed to wander. So I present for you: Stuff I Think About While Riding My Bike, or SITAWRMB. That's a working title.

1. While I'd would never actually want this to happen, if I ever had to be hit by a vehicle, I would want to be hit by an ambulance. Think about it: a team of trained professionals is already there to save your life. Well, I suppose you could still die as an ambulance is pretty big and if it's going fast enough, you're done for. But on average, I'd choose ambulance every time. Though if I did get hit fatally, at least my last thought would be one of delicious irony. "Ha! I about to be killed by an ambulance! How hilariou-" I'd think as it plowed into me. Macabre, but hilarious. Also, I guess I'd have to be deaf in this scenario, otherwise I'd hear the sirens and probably move. Again, I'd never actually want this to happen, but if some omnicient intergalactic being forced me to be struck by a vehicle for it's amusement, I'd choose ambulance just as a small victory for myself.

2. Here's strange situation I actually tweeted about a while ago. It's about 1 in the morning, I'm riding home from work, it's cold, foggy and there's a full moon. In the distance I hear police sirens. The first thought in my head? A werewolf has escaped. Now, I don't actually believe in werewolves, but some part of me has been trained to think full moon + creepiness = werewolf. I've ridden through that park countless times, on much darker nights, but the fog added about 241% more creepiness. Needless to say, I rode home in record time.

3. Street lights are there to help us see at night. Except for one. One that I know hates me. It's right before the intersection of Shields and Lake and every time I pass it, it goes out. And I mean every. Single. Time. And every single time, I somehow still get startled by it and let out a muffled "sonofabitch!" I have no clue why it goes out when I pass it. I've seen plenty of cars and pedestrians pass it without so much of a flicker, so I must be giving off some sort of weak electromagnetic pulse or something. Which, if it's true, could be just the kind of lame super power I need to finish my lame super power bingo card.

4. This one is just a generalization about other bikers I encounter. I know for a fact that not everyone who rides a bike does it for pleasure. Take, for example, me. I do it out of necessity. And spite. Mostly spite. However, the vast majority of other cyclists seem to be the hardcore, spandex wearing, aerodynamic helmet sporting, performance bicycle riding enthusiasts. And in this case I call them "cyclists" rather than "bikers" because that's probably what they consider themselves. "Oh, I'm cyclist. Look at all my uncomfortable curves as I pass you no matter how fast you're going." It wouldn't bother me so much, but somehow, I know they're judging me with their judging eyes, hiding behind their judgeproof sunglasses with UV protection.

They're just one subset of other bike riders that annoy me. Perhaps I'll get into the dreaded "fixie" riders next time.

BONUS IMAGE: Lame Super Power Bingo