The Missing Trailer Key... Again
I don't know if it's getting older, working in the heat, or just having too much going on at once, but lately it seems like my memory likes to take random vacations without telling me.
The other morning I showed up to work ready to get started, grabbed what I needed, and reached for the trailer key.
Nothing.
No big deal, I thought. It's probably in the truck.
Nope.
Checked every pocket. Nothing.
Looked through the cup holders, center console, tool bags, and every place a key could possibly hide.
Still nothing.
Then I started thinking back to the day before. I remembered locking everything up and heading home, but I couldn't remember exactly what I did with the key afterward.
The funny thing is I've done this before.
A while back I thought I had lost the trailer key and spent forever looking for it. After searching everywhere, I finally found it sitting in the pocket of the jeans I had worn the day before. Ever since then, whenever something goes missing, my first thought is, "Check yesterday's pants."
So I was convinced that was the answer.
I actually drove all the way home and checked the clothes I had worn the previous day.
Nothing.
Every pocket.
Nothing.
Now I was really confused.
I drove back to work and tried getting a few things done, but you know how that goes. You can't focus on anything when your brain is busy replaying every step you've taken over the last twenty-four hours.
Where did I put it?
Did I drop it?
Did somebody pick it up?
Did it somehow fall into another dimension where all missing tape measures and 10mm sockets go?
After fighting with it for a while, I finally gave up trying to work and decided to retrace my steps one more time.
I walked over to the entrance where I had locked the gate the night before.
And there it was.
Laying right where I had dropped it when I locked up and headed home.
The key had spent the entire night outside, patiently waiting for me to remember where I left it.
I stood there laughing at myself because I had already spent more time looking for the key than I would have spent using it.
The best part is that because I had found it in my jeans pocket once before, I was absolutely convinced that was where it had to be this time too. My brain had already solved the mystery before the investigation even started.
Turns out the key wasn't in my pants.
It wasn't in the truck.
It wasn't in the trailer.
It was exactly where I left it after a long day of work when my tired brain apparently clocked out before the rest of me did.
Working in the heat will do that to you. After enough hours in the sun, you start forgetting simple things. Names, tools, why you walked across the jobsite, and occasionally where you left the one thing you need to start your day.
At least I found the key.
Now if I could just remember where I put my tape measure...
Sometimes the hardest part of construction isn't the work itself—it's remembering what you did yesterday after ten hours in the heat. 😆
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