Crazy Makers


All was good this morning when I woke up.  Sun was up, the rain clouds were cleaning, I had visions of hot coffee not far off and a small list of things to do today.  Plenty of time to get up, have that cup of joe, check emails, get a shower and dressed with time to spare to get the girls to the vet’s on time.  What was I thinking?  How can one little thing through my whole morning into a circus?  Some very little thing in the big scheme of life can drive me completely bonkers.

All dressed and ready to head out the door, I take Muddy and Fuzz outside before loading them into the truck.  Muddy is my 93 pound Labradoodle and Fuzz is my 72 pound Goldendoodle.  With the girls waiting patiently for me in the truck, I go to move the car from its parking place behind the truck and notice I did not pick my keys up off the counter.  Back into the house I go, but there are only my car keys on the counter, no truck keys.  So I move the car and the hunt for my truck keys commences.  Usually both sets of keys are together on one large D ring.  For some strange reason I had separated them the other day and forgot to hook them back together.

Not counting the crap stacked everywhere due to our pending move, there isn’t much free counter space open.  No wonder I can find anything.  Twenty minutes into the search my husband says for me to just take his keys and use the hidden house key to get back inside when I return.   Now I am running late for the vet appointment.  Probably my number one pet peeve, of course is being late for anything.  However, I am determined to not freak out and drive like a mad woman to town.  If I’m late, I’ll just be late.

I did text (voice command) my son to see if he used my keys yesterday when he moved the vehicles.  He replied he had and to look in the car.  Been there done that with no succuss.  When I arrived at the vet’s office I realized just how bad this one little thing, like not finding my truck keys had thrown my world into a tailspin.

I open the back door of the truck to put the girl’s leashes on and I have no leashes.  I had to borrow two leashes from the front desk to bring the girls indoors.  They would have behaved and walked in just fine without their leash on but I prefer to have complete control just in case there’s a cat in the lobby.  Sure enough we walk in and there’s a cat.  Thank goodness it was in a carry kennel or the chase would have been on. The visit goes well, both girls are healthy and now all caught up on their shots and ready for the move.  Only while I am tending to Muddy, Fuzzy decides the borrowed rope leash smells like something good to chew on and chews the rope in two pieces.

We finish up and I take the girls out to the truck to wait while I pay the national debt for their office visit.  Good thing I just have dogs and wasn’t paying for two kids medical visit.   I happily walk back into the office but not only forget the borrowed leash, I forget my purse.  Back out I go, grab my purse and leash and back inside I go, only now someone is in front of me and I must wait in line to pay.

Finally done with that and I’m off to Walmart to pick up a few things.  As I walk in the front door I realize my list is on the counter at home.  I walk around the Super Center like a lost child trying to remember what was on my list.  $140 later I find my way back to the truck, still not knowing if anything I have purchased was anything I had on the list.  I did remember peanut butter and bread was on the list.

As I walk up to the car, I reach in my purse for the keys and they are not in the little front pocket where I always stick them.  Panic starts to creep up my neck.  This is the reason I carry two rings of keys on the large D ring so they are too large to be kept anyplace beside the pocket in the front of my purse.  Crap!  OH! I have my husbands small key fob with just the fob and one key attached.  Thank goodness the key is in my front jeans pocket.

The girls watch me load up the groceries and hear me cussing as I drop something heavy on the bread.  Now the bread is squashed.  I just want to go home and have a second cup of coffee!

The though runs through my mind as I pull up in the drive as to what I will do if the spare house key is not in it’s hiding place.  I park the truck, let the girls out, and go to the hiding place.  Low and behold there is the spare key.  It’s the small things in life that make one happy.

Now that I have had my second cup of coffee I feel I can continue the search for my keys before anything else goes wrong.



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