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:
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
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!
