The other day I left my keys at work.
There are several reasons for my forgetfulness, I suppose.
The fact that I still haven't quite gotten over the idea that I no longer ride the bus, is one reason. Rarely did I ever carry any keys with me when I rode the bus. I became accustomed to the idea that I didn't have to carry keys. Keeping keys in the pocket of a suit is a great way to wear holes through the fabric of that suit.
The more immediate reason I left my keys at work is that it was my first day at work after our wonderful/strange/odd trip last week. I was still getting my land legs back.
Still, I left the keys on my desk top.
I have determined that I will keep the keys in a special pocket of my briefcase. That way they won't jingle around and wear holes in my pockets. And I will always know where they are.
Even so, there are worse things to forget than my keys.
Over a decade ago, I came home from work on a Friday evening. I walked from the bus stop to our apartment. I noticed that the car wasn't in our parking spot, so I figured that she'd taken the kids shopping or to a park, or something.
When I entered our apartment, my family was sitting on the couch watching TV.
"Where's the car?" I asked
"Well, you drove it to work this morning..." was her reply.
We left the kids on their own, walked together back to the bus stop, took the next bus back into the city, picked up the car and went on a date.