🔑 The Ballad of the Bloody Keys -
An ADHD Morning in Aotearoa (New Zealand) I had them. I HAD them. I'm sure that I did. They were right in my hand... then they hid. Not on the hook where the sensible folk hang their keys like it's some kind of joke. Not on the bench, not under the mail, not in my pocket... and here starts the tale. I walked to the kitchen to retrace my tracks, but the kettle was there, so I made a cuppa. Relax. Then I noticed the hedge through the window. Oh no. That Buxus won't trim itself. Out I go. Twenty minutes later, secateurs down, the kittens need feeding, they're meowing around. One cuddle, two cuddles, okay maybe five. Jaz wants belly pats. It's good to be alive. I passed the She Shed and my mosaics called, "Come play with us, Debz!" but I stalled. (If I go in there, I won't come out till June, and the keys won't find themselves by afternoon.) Back inside now. FOCUS. Keys. Checked the fridge. Checked the freeze. Checked inside my gardening shoe. Checked the spots I already knew. Retraced my steps. Got halfway there. Started a load of wash. Fixed my hair. Reorganised a shelf (just one, I swear). Googled "why do I lose things everywhere." And then... right THERE. In plain bloody sight. Where I left them last night. On the table. By my phone. Under the thing I should have known. If you're reading this and nodding your head, if you've found your keys inside the bread, if you've searched for glasses ON your face, welcome home, friend. You're in the right place. We don't lose things because we're slack. Our brains just take the scenic track. 🦓