Lost Keys, Rainy Mondays and Depression

* When I write about being depressed, I’m not looking for anyone to tell me how great I am or all the things I have to be thankful for. What I want to hear more than anything is “Oh yeah, I know how you feel. I get that way too.”

If my dad were here, he’d say “yep, misery loves company.”

I guess that’s true, Dad. Whether it’s misery or feeling like a misfit or wondering if you’re the only one on earth who loses your car key and doesn’t have a spare, we all want to know that other people can relate.

Well, I do, anyway.

And hopefully those who can relate to me aren’t habitual offenders with multiple restraining orders against them.

My old mentor, Janet, the one who moved to Fresno, used to say, “Angela, never compare your insides with other people’s outsides. It’ll just make you miserable.”

Those of you who seem so perfect…I just want evidence that you’re not. I want to hear about when you got the time wrong for your kid’s ball game and got there an hour late. And the team had to forfeit because they didn’t have enough players. Or that family vacation when you and your husband got into a fight and you pouted and didn’t speak to anyone for an entire day. And then later on, you felt ridiculous and immature for getting that mad over such a little thing. (Those were random examples…sort of.)

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My dog Katie accepts me…incompetence and all.

The problem is that I’ve lost the key fob to my car. The only one I had. It’s vanished. Evaporated. Went “poof.” Gone.

(Key Fob: The little remote control thingy that has replaced metal keys in many of today’s cars. It makes life so much easier…until you lose the darned thing.)

Yes, I’ve looked in every pocket, drawer, cabinet, purse, closet and orifice. For two whole days, I’ve relentlessly ripped my car, house and yard apart, like a DEA agent searching for heroin. If I die in the next couple of days, my ghost will probably haunt our property searching in vain for the missing fob.

“Legend has it that on cold January nights when the moon is full, you can hear the restless spirit of Angela Weight opening and shutting drawers, rifling through closets and muttering ‘where is that freaking key!!!!'”

I even made my poor husband drive me back to the CITGO station so I could search through the garbage can next to the gas pump. It wasn’t there either. Shameka, the very nice attendant, said that no one had turned in a set of keys, but I was welcome to keep anything I wanted from the garbage.

Now, I’m waiting for Tony at Richmond Ford to call me back and tell me whether he has the undoubtedly expensive key fob in stock.

And what kind of word is “fob?” A stupid one. Fob sounds like it should be an acronym for something negative…like “Freaking Obnoxious Boss” or “Fon of a Bitch.”

I wonder if employees in the parts department think that Tony is a FOB.

“You have to buy two fobs. The car can’t be programmed with just one,” Tony explained slowly, in a tone reserved for hard-of-hearing foreigners.”

“Fon-of-a-bitch! How much will that cost?” I responded, in a tone reserved for realizing I’m not getting new bedroom furniture anytime soon.

When you lose your only key fob, the vehicle has to be towed to the dealer for reprogramming.

It’s not just the cost and inconvenience that’s got me down, but those self-sabotaging”I’m such an incompetent idiot,” feelings that accompany losing your keys.

This whole ordeal throws me back to being an awkward fifth grader with a lisp. With evil Mrs. Lovett telling my mom that I must have a learning disability because I’m spacey and have the messiest handwriting she’s ever seen.

“Angela just can’t get it together!”

And only stupid, outcast fifth graders lose their keys as adults.

To compensate, I’m trying to think positive thoughts like “Yes, I’ve lost my key, but I’m a loving, productive, valuable member of society.”

“Hi Tony, I’ve lost my key fob, but that doesn’t make me a bad person. How much will a new one cost?”

And then my mom calls.

“Well, what’d you lose your keys for, Angela?”

“Guess I was just in the mood to lose something and spend $500 to replace it. And I have a learning disability. And have you seen my atrocious handwriting?”

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Oh good. The tow truck’s here.

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Bye, car.

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If you’d like to read more essays like this one, click here to download my new ebook for your Kindle reader or Kindle app on your smart phone.

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16 Responses to Lost Keys, Rainy Mondays and Depression

  1. angelaweight says:

    Fixed. Thanks for making me feel even more like an idiot, Gary. just kidding, sort of.

    Like

  2. Kara says:

    I know how you feel, I get that way too! You’re absolutely not alone…
    Sometimes when I’m walking down the stairs I forget how to do it…my body keeps going but my brain panics. I’d love to see the look on my face when it happens. Perhaps I’ll install a camera above the stairs to catch it next time, like one of those cameras that catches your contorted face when you’re on the roller coaster with your kids and you’ve just realized you should have peed before the ride…you know you’re going to find that fob as soon as you get home from the dealership with the new one…perhaps you could smash it in effigy…can you smash something in effigy? I’m not looking it up…I’m going to bed now

    Like

  3. Darlene Daniel says:

    Losing a key fob is a good thing, just don’t get into the habit of falling. I am a total klutz. I fell one night shortly after midnight, I suppose. Apparently, I dreamed the phone was ringing on Larry’s side of the bed. He uses a C-Pap, so it was up to me to answer it, thinking it was his mama, I jumped up and ran to get it. I tripped, hit my nose and eye socket on the bedside table and knocked myself out. Unfortunately, it was not his mama, she had passed away 2 months prior, but in my defense, she did often call us often in the middle of the night before she died. The blood was such that Larry was afraid that if someone were to see it, they would think he tried to do me in. Also, he did not know I was there and nearly stepped on me when he got up to the moaning he was hearing. The next year, I face planted in the bathroom, two weeks ago, I slipped on my socks on the hardwood and bruised insides when I hit the armrest on the sofa. So, be thankful it is only a key fob!!! Sorry about your losing it though, hate it for you.

    Like

  4. Hubby lost his a few weeks ago and it hasn’t turned up. We’re pretty sure he put it down somewhere odd and of course, it’s not going to be found easily. I think this stuff definitely is a result of aging, too, and it can be depressing.

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  5. Ellen Dolgen says:

    I am not going to tell you how many times I have lost my keys, cell phone or my big laptop – it would depress you!

    Like

  6. I think the SSRI I am on makes me inattentive. Either that or my house has a ridiculously large population of fairy folk who like to abscond with keys!

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  7. I lose stuff regularly… then find it in odd places. My husband (and adult daughters, when they visit) keep an eye on me when putting food away in the kitchen. It’s happened far too often that milk and eggs ended up in the cupboard instead of the fridge. And Netflix probably thinks I’m selling their goods considering how many times I’ve had to ask for a replacement disc when I’ve misplaced one (and though I don’t tell them, I’m pretty sure each time that it’s been accidentally thrown away).

    Like

  8. Carolann says:

    All the “stuff” you detailed, is life…it’s just life. No one is perfect, everyone loses their keys, and at some point during the day, you can usually hear me say, Shit, dam, or crap…maybe more than once really. Don’t be so hard on yourself – after all, you’re human. Humans screw things up..a lot!

    Like

  9. Jennifer Martin says:

    Got a new book for you Angela “Upside Down Brilliance”! It describes us to the letter. You know most of mine but i will give you several good ones. Headed for a 3 hour drive to Brunswick to pick up my new puppy I was purchasing. #1 New cute collar-check, cute leash-check, fun little toys-check. 7:30 am on the road forgot money, banks are closed and cash amount from ATM was not possible!!! Called Jon bawling my eyes out. #2 Call Jon looking for car keys, kids are going to be late for school, turn house upside down, Jon tells me to double check to see if i left them in the seat of the car, Wait-for-it!!! I had gone out to start my car early to warm it up!! Keys in it and car running!! There are many, many more! Yes, it gets discouraging sometimes, but in the above mentioned book it reminded me of some positives regarding Carson especially. WE live in the moment and love being in the present. Carson’s favorite food will be the one he is eating, favorite sport-the one he is currently playing. I will leave it at that. My 42 year old self can put quite a negative spin in this, but for now I will try and preserve my 11 year old son who absolutely loves each and every moment he is in!!

    Like

  10. WendysHat says:

    I just block these negative moments out of my mind or I’d be depressed nearly all day everyday too. I misplace things! I think we all do but no one wants to really admit that. You are normal!

    Like

  11. nfhill says:

    I commented here shortly after you posted. I wonder what happened to it? I blame SSRI medication on interfering with my short term memory and lost keys, earrings, debit card… either that or I have a serious problem with elves, brownies, fairies and the like.

    Like

  12. The worst part is after you have the car towed, spend all the money for a new fob (or two) and then inevitably find the lost one.

    Like

  13. Keila Monroe says:

    Too funny. Although I am not fancy enough to have a key fob, I did order a cheap keyless remote one time ($12 or so) from U-Haul (not a mistake, who knew they sold these?). It works great and after following 12 steps or so, I was able to reprogram it. It was something like this: roll your window down and up 4 times, crank the car half way, hold out your tongue, touch your nose, and shout abracadabra in Portuguese and voila!!! Good luck!! Love your blog!! I swear that you need your own tv show or something!! I would get a season pass for sure!!

    Like

  14. Naomi says:

    I once tied the car key around my neck for swimming because I was paranoid about leaving it in a bag in the sand. Anyone can take your stuff, and no one else knows it isn’t theirs. So of course, the ribbon came untied and dropped the key into the sand at some point. I also had locked the cell phone in the car so no one could take it — so I had to use a stranger’s phone (and had to have them dial the number because I couldn’t get their touch screen to work, and the 2 year old was screaming and trying to run back to the water by herself). Fun swimming at the fake beach turned into a total nightmare. I always wondered if it was the 2 year old who untied the ribbon with the key, or if it just untied from all the activity required to keep a 2 year old without floaties from drowning themselves.

    Like

  15. angelaweight says:

    Oh man! That does sound like a nightmare! Funny how the pains we take to keep things safe can backfire on us. Thanks so much for stopping by and commenting. 😃

    Like

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