I must admit that I'm slacking the work because I finished the book for proofreading yesterday and I'm simply mentally drained. I should be creating some more materials but I opted for browsing library catalogues for something inspiring, dealing with backlog of mail and similar shit and packing for Prague. A business trip on Monday means that I can spend the whole weekend there.
My flatmate lodged his friend in my place and I gave them the spare keys I've been using. My regular keys lived on the table and I forgot to grab them in the morning so I abandoned my work station and left for home to grab them. I got caught in a horizontal snow, so horizontal that the snowflakes ended in my ear canal, which is not important to the story, just interestingly silly, came home, headed for my table and the keys weren't there.
I grabbed a stapler, tape measuer and 4,5mm cubic needles, the two former I forgot and the cubics are intended for another winterproof white sweater which I plan to knit over the weekend (yes, hope springs eternal). I rummaged some more more, keys kept missing.
At the end, I grabbed the spare spare keys with the old key from the flat and now I hope that the entrance door lock hasn't changed. My lock did change but since it comes with some speshul code card from which a locksmith can make a spare key, I found the card, called my smithlock cousin and picked my keys later on.
I'm very positive that in a week's time, I'll find my keys. Several sets of keys of mine are living in a pocket universe. I'm not losing shit, I'm just misplacing it and then it creeps away to some umpteenth dimension. Since there is no reasonable explanation based on physics or psychologi, I hereby claim that it must be the inherent malice of Universe.