Week 5 Revisited: You've Lost it! Where is it...?

You ever had one of those days where you just can't keep track of anything? I have, I think it's one of those things that have gotten worse as I've gotten older, ether that or it's simply a result of acumulating more things to lose stuff in. Like now for instance, I'm pawing through the bottom drawr of my desk looking for my keys. It's a perfectly logical place to look, who wouldn't lose their keys amidst the rough and final drafts of college papers and half written stories that have been left to collect dust? Actually it's more an exorsize in that old addage "Always look first in the last place you'd think they'd be." Rummaging around in those old files don't spot a glint of metal or the gingle of chain so....on to the next place, which would be the first I should've looked in the first place: My pants.

With this relisation of course comes the obligitory pat down of ones pockets which produces one cell phone, thirty seven cents in change and a pay stub but no key ring as of yet. One would think that one would keep a better eye on the single most important componant to the operation of a motor vehicle, but apparently not this guy. Further inspection of my work pants also fails to bear fruit thus I move to the next most plausable places: The kitchen table and under the couch cushions. This of course leads me out of my bedroom into the kitchen and with a quick inspection of the table I find the latest issue of GameInformer which I pause to peruse a few moments (Hey, I get easily distracted) but still no keys. Thus I continued to my final planned destination, the couch. It's a nice piece, soft brown leather with a aged look that speaks of several years of good wear. Still the cushions themselves are still fairly soft as I toss them aside and go riffling through the inner workings benieth. Still no keys.

Standing up I scratch my head and look about for some idea, any idea of where they had gone; then it hits me like a fuzzy ball of lightning. Ferrets.

Last night the ferrets had been out playing tag through the pant legs of my work pants. Going back into my room I turn over my right work shoe, nothing there. I pick up the left and hear the tell tale jingle of metal against metal. With a tilt I spill my keys out into my waiting hand and pocket them swiftly. I knew those little theaving maggpies had to have had something to do with this!