Why I Can’t Find My Keys

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In the past month, I have lived in three places. From home to school, I transferred from a cozy three bedroom house in the country with a pool and an adorable puppy to what turned out to be a space ever so slightly larger than a closet. What was supposed my magical, senior year apartment became more of a veritable prison, uncomfortable in every way. So, I ended up moving five minutes down the road to a giant tower full of regular citizens of the world and just a few other students. It was a lot of change in a small amount of time and it really threw off my daily routine, especially my ability to find my keys. Without a place to belong, my keys have been living anywhere all over my two apartments, causing me to be late on several occasions. Since coming back to Philadelphia, I have found my keys in the following places:

Floorplan-Revised

In the Prison Closet (aka Apartment 1):

Under the couch

In the couch

Behind the tea kettle

In a dish of mints

On top of the refrigerator

Inside my pillow case

Amidst the sheets of my bed

In my shoe

In the pocket of my pants in a pile of laundry

On the corner of the sink

On my roommate’s desk

floor

In the Tower of Regular People (aka Apartment 2):

The middle of the empty living room

In the toaster oven

In a basket of DVDs

On a stack of books

On top of the printer

Beneath a pile of pillows on the couch

In the closet in one of 5 purses I use interchangeably

On the bottom a standing floor lamp

In a drawer of socks

Next to the bathroom sink

But all is right in the world now. We have a fancy wooden dish with the engravings of pinecones for our keys to live in just near the door, and I haven’t misplaced them since!

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