Recently, when the manservant was in Chile, I walked out of the house, pulled the front door shut automatically locking it and, as I went to put my key into my bag, realised I was holding the mailbox key!!!!
There’s that second when you look stupidly at the item in your hand as your brain tries to process what’s happened.
Then there’s an utterance like damn, shit, fuck, as you wonder “how am I going to get back inside”.
Then you can either fall apart or go off to work and, like Scarlett, worry about it later.
I went off to work & as I sat on the train I remembered that I’d given a spare key to a work friend after I’d broken my shoulder last year. I thought there might be a time that I didn’t turn up for work and she’d have to come and look for me either naked and slippery on the bathroom floor or broken at the bottom of the stairs!
I guess that means I have a Plan B: I’ve said before and I must say again I *love* my metro station billboards from the Office of Emergency Management!