There is this set of keys I keep losing and re-finding. It is absolutely maddening. The keys go to a lock that sits on a small storage unit that hold things I don’t use very often. And I can never find them when I need them. And that seems to be a reoccurring theme in my thirties… find and losing, finding and losing, rinse, repeat.
I used to chalk this up to being busy. I was working a 60 hr a week job that wore me out physically and mentally. As a result I became very absentminded and tended to write everything down. I could barely remember the day or date, let alone details like where I was supposed to be and who I had spoken to in the last three days. I’ve since quit that job and found one with much less stress – my reduced paycheck is evidence of that – but I’m still rolling through like the absentminded professor. I make notes then forget the notes. Grocery lists are pointless. So are to-do lists… I write a list, forget that list exists, and start a new list. It’s an endless cycle of uncompleted tasks and getting really angry with myself for getting things done within the schedule I SET FOR MYSELF. Whew.
So back to these damnable keys. The stuff in this storage unit isn’t all that important. That what I keep telling myself, so that is what I will continue to believe. I spent a large portion of my life indulging my fondness for retail therapy and as a result have amassed a shopping mall worth of crap. I couldn’t come close to telling anyone what was in those bins and boxes. And these keys – last time I went over there, I was so sure I had the right keys that a had a two year old sized tantrum when the keys on the key ring didn’t work. (picture it, a six foot tall, 37 year-old black woman with an afo, pitching a hissy fit outside of public storage… at least I can laugh at it now. Mostly.) And to top it all off, I still don’t know what those keys went to. Makes me sad to this day.
In the spirit of rebirth and renewal, not to mention a desire to buy all new things, I’ve decided to get rid of all the crap that has taken root in my storage unit. My primary residence is still a rental for my brother and his family. Never sure where I’ll be in 3 or 6 months, I’m okay with parting with the things. If only I can find those damned keys…