Jagged Little Key

Hi! It's been three whole weeks since I've blogged and it feels good to be back.

I was going to write a blog post today about all of our adventures in Sweden and the ridiculous things that happened while we were there. Oh my goodness, did ridiculous things happen.... 

But.... then Tuesday happened. So Sweden stories are going to have to wait. 

Let me start with before we left for our trip. We were doing a thing that most people do before leaving for vacation: packing. And it was actually going great! I was organized and we used those cute little packing cube things to keep all our clothes contained and sorted properly so as to maximize space. It all felt very grown up and very different from the glory days of just opening a suitcase and throwing crumpled up piles of shirts and underwear and pants inside before zipping it all up to be dealt with when we got to wherever we were going. The Mr has really made a difference in my life, I must say.

And one of the last things I had left to do was to get my purse together. I started emptying it to make sure that I wasn't going to accidentally try boarding a plane with a steak knife or something (before you ask, yes, I have found mysterious steak knives in my purse before and I think it's best if we all just move on because I don't even fully believe the story with that one...), and when I found the key to the bookshop (where I work), I was all "Oh, I would hate to lose this while we're in Sweden," so I removed it from my purse and very responsibly hung the key in our key box where we keep all keys.

At least... that's what I remembered happening. 

Fast forward to Tuesday, when I was scheduled to open the store - specifically to 8:25am, five minutes before I should be leaving my house. I put on my shoes, grabbed my purse and recalled my very responsible key management skills, and walked over to the key box only to see no store key hanging there. 

CUE THE PANIC. 

The Mr and I naturally began searching high and low throughout the entire at-the-time-but-quickly-becoming-no-longer clean apartment. We turned bags inside out, we checked coat pockets, we went back through the same bags over and over and over again, I checked under the car seats, in desk drawers.... the key was nowhere. 

At 8:40am, I frantically texted my former co-worker who now has a business next door to the bookshop to ask if she happened to still have her key and if she was going to be there before 9. She said yes, and The Mr and I raced out the door without even saying goodbye to the dogs, and resolving to find the key and clean our now disastrous apartment when we got home. 

Now, there are some things to note here: 

  • The Mr and I share a car, so he gives me a ride to work and home every morning. We usually take the dogs with us, but this morning we just didn't have time to get them all leashed up and into the car, so we didn't. 
  • Our dogs are anxious creatures, so when we leave the house without them, we have a routine that we do the same way every time so that they are emotionally prepared for being alone. It's not that weird. 
  • If we don't do that routine and if we, say, race out the door in a panic, they are prone to thinking that something is wrong and in their stress they will destroy something. One time, Gio ripped open and pulled all of the stuffing out of my mattress. 
  • It takes less than 20 minutes for The Mr to drive me to work and get home again. 

So I opened the store only 5 minutes late, and luckily, with it being a Tuesday, no customers were kept waiting or anything, so work-wise, this wasn't a huge deal. After things got rolling, I was feeling fine about the whole day. I knew my store key was somewhere, and I wasn't going to be the one opening the store again until Saturday, so I had plenty of time to find it. With the comfort of this thought, I went about the rest of my work day with ease. 

And then The Mr picked me up.

Me: Hey, hey! How was your day?

The Mr: Well.... fine.

Me: What happened?

The Mr: Well.... I have some bad news.

Me: Uh oh.... how bad?

The Mr: It's pretty bad.

Me: ....

The Mr: You know how we tore the house apart looking for your key and then just left in a rush this morning?

Me: Oh no... what did Aloy destroy this time?

Me: My PASSPORT?!?! 

The Mr: And weirdly, this is the only thing she decided to chew up. Actually, no there was also some gum that she was chewing on. Did you have gum in your purse, too?

Me: ....I haven't bought gum in years.... 

The Mr:  Huh.

So... the good news is that this happened after we returned from our international travels and not right before.

The weird thing is that this is the second time a dog has chewed up my passport (the last time was the week before I moved to England for a year) 

And for those of you who are dying to know... I did find my store key. I woke up suddenly at 5:45 in the morning on Thursday with the very clear realization that I hadn't been bringing my purse with me to work for a few weeks before our trip because I had been bringing my crochet project with me to work on during lunch, and in order to do that, I had been throwing everything into my Harry Potter tote bag. I sat up, got out of bed, and walked over to my closet, where I had neatly hung the Harry Potter tote bag on a hook inside the closet door. I reached in and my fingers closed around that unmistakable cold, jagged little steak knife of a key that is now preventing me from boarding any international flights in the near future.