I lost my keys...

on Tuesday morning. At the dentist's office of all places. Halfway through the cleaning, I felt my pocket in a panic and what do you know. Empty.

So naturally I got a little worried. Naturally I they weren't in my other pocket. Or my jacket pocket. Or in the snow or on the sidewalk to where I parked the car. Not even in the car or the ignition. And not on the way back into the office. Or the chair. Or on the way back to the car again.

I had a spare car key that I keep in my wallet, so I was thankful that I could actually leave. But c'mon now. Where the hell could they have gone?

It threw me off all day. Not to mention it wasn't a normal day to begin with. I was psyched for the inauguration, so for me to have any type of positive emotion on a Tuesday morning is unusual (Tuesdays are my least favorite day of the week... Like a friend that keeps reminding you about all your faults). I managed to calm myself down enough to watch Obama and feel good.

Then off to work. First day in a new building. Shouldn't have been an issue, but I was thrown for a loop. Gotta love working for the public.

Got home at 9, tired and drained. Gave up, went to bed. Before work Wednesday morning, went back to the office. To and fro and lo and behold, nothing.

Then I did something I didn't really expect to do. I have a tenuous relationship with religion. I wrote the keys off as gone. But then I said a little prayer and gave the problem over to God.

Ever heard that quote: "Every evening I turn my worries over to God. He's going to be up all night anyway." Well, I wasn't that messed up about it that I couldn't sleep. But what the hell, right?

Before I left work that night, I got a call. The dentist's office found my keys on a ledge inside the building while a patient was waiting for a ride home.