I am the queen of losing things. Not to brag, but I once lost my phone, wallet and keys for two weeks. After a successful Fourth of July weekend, it was inevitable that something vital to my daily functionality would go missing. This holiday's victim happened to be my keys. I'm going to walk you through the unavoidable five stages of grief I experienced as I mourned the loss of my key chain.
1. Denial
It's fine. They've got to be in this apartment somewhere. I basically live in a toaster, they can't be that hard to find. They'll turn up. I mean, I got home and into my bed last night. Or did I leave them in the cab? "Hey, roomie, have you seen my keys?" Wait, they're in the pocket of last night's jeans. Oh, or not. I should probably check all the pockets five more times just to be safe. Forget about it. I'll just text someone to drive me to Cookout and look for them later.
2. Anger
I am literally the dumbest person ever and I should never be allowed outside again. As soon as I find my keys – and I will find my keys – I'm gluing them to my hand. Or buying one of those keychains that beeps. But then what if I lose the remote that makes the keychain beep? I am so angry at myself. I am a cotton-headed ninny-muggins.
3. Bargaining
Dear Lord baby Jesus, lyin' there in your ghost manger, just lookin' at your Baby Einstein developmental videos, learnin' 'bout shapes and colors, please just let me find my keys and I'll never go to the bar again. Okay, well, I'll never go to the bar on a Tuesday again. Except for friends' birthdays and the first and third Tuesdays of every month.
4. Depression
This is the end of my miserable existence. I'm never driving my car again, and everything in my apartment is going to get stolen because I'm incapable of locking the front door when I leave. Don't call me. Don't text me. Just let me wallow by myself in my bed because I did this to myself and I no longer deserve nice things. Actually, text me if you're willing to bring me a milkshake.
5. Acceptance
I suppose it's time to bring out the big guns and call my mom. How livid is she going to be when I tell her I lost my keys again and I need her to overnight me the spare to my Mazda? I'm going to Lowe's first thing tomorrow to make 12 copies and place them all in plain sight throughout my apartment. But hey, stuff happens, and I had fun last night even if I did lose those dumb keys.
These five stages are difficult, but today's college student is resilient, and if I can make it through, I know you can, too. Besides, there's no better feeling than starting your ignition for the first time when you realize your keys were in your purse the whole time.
