I get perverse joy out of not being the one responsible for a mix-up.
I had to be somewhere at ten and it was a forty-five minute drive there. It was getting on 9:15 (ADD time here) and it occurred to me I couldn't find my keys. I started by looking on the table, where I remembered placing them when I got home yesterday. Not there. Next, I looked in my backpack, basket of keys and miscellaneous things, going-out purse, coat and jean pockets, piles of paperwork, floor, bathroom counter, kitchen counters, bags I brought home groceries in yesterday, desk area, bedroom, floor and table once again.
I thought whether I could have dropped them from my backpack on my way home from school yesterday by light rail, but I was pretty sure I hadn't even taken them with me to class since I wasn't driving there. I wondered if I had dropped them somewhere in the apartment complex or locked them into the trunk, but I was pretty sure I remembered "beeping" the car to prove to myself it was locked.
Then I texted the boyfriend that I lost my keys and got a text message back that he didn't have them. Continued looking, and planning how to laugh off my reason for not showing up to the work event.
Then I got a call from the boyfriend with updated information. "I found your set of keys in my jeans pocket. No idea why I took them with me. Oops, sorry."
Me--laugh my head off privately because I get to be disorganized, but through no fault of my own. I get to call work and tell them "boyfriend took the keys on accident, car sharing can be silly sometimes". I get a valid excuse to work on homework and goof around at home all morning......a reason that has NOTHING to do with me.
And I get to congratulate myself for NOT losing my keys. This must mean I am actually organized!