The Rest of my Keys?

"Um, excuse me?" I ventured, not entirely certain where to take my statement next.  "Can I possibly get the rest of my keys?"  I giggled uncomfortably, shrugged, and held out the key fob in the general direction of the Discount Tire employee.  

He looked back at me, panicking.  "You gave us more than just the fob?"

"Yeah, I handed the first guy my whole key ring.  It has a carabiner, a small Eiffel Tower, a USB drive, and a few assorted keys?"

He was already moving toward his nearest associate, seeking out immediate backup.  "Hey, do you know where this lady's keys might be?"  I could immediately see the answer dawn on the poor guy's face, and he had not choice but to admit it.

"I think they got tangled up in the customer's before her.  The Montero."

I laughed, knowing something they didn't know.

"Would that happen to have been the gentleman in the grey slacks and maroon button up?" I asked.  "Because if so, I actually know him.  He lives in the neighborhood across from mine, and it really wouldn't be that big of a deal to get them back from him."

And so it was that I left Discount Tire with a slightly lighter load (although I guess I technically traded it for the burden of the tire's diagnosis) and an odd text message to send.

"Brother Hatch, Discount Tire thinks they may have given my keys to you.  Any chance you received an extra set?"
"Sure did!  Just noticed as you said that."

 No harm, no foul.  Now I have my keys back and a pretty funny story to tell.

Alone

To preface this post, let me clearly state that I do not enjoy being alone.  All those internet memes and posts that explain how extroverts draw their energy from being around others while these same interactions drain an introvert?  Clear evidence of my extroverted nature.  Solitude is not only draining, but honestly frightening for me.  Beyond the fact that I just don't enjoy it, there's also the whole social-perception aspect.  And so I've never so much as attended the movie theater alone.

And yet...

Last weekend, I spent the most amazing 24 hours all. by. myself.  I mean, people were around.  But not people I knew.  I spoke only to strangers (a feat generally so terrifying that I struggle to ask a question at Home Depot) for 24 hours.  To be fair, Kirk had to endure a two hour steady stream of words that flowed out of me like an unstopped dam when I returned home.  But still.  24 hours alone.  And I loved it.

I headed to Bear Lake to check out the Pickleville Playhouse and review a show for UTBA.  I could easily have driven back home after the production, but I decided I would rather just camp out in the back of my car and drive home fresh the next morning.  But then the more I thought about it (and checked out area attractions on my phone), the more I wanted to tack on extras to make the drive even more worth it.  A museum.  A cave.  I had no real obligations on Saturday, so why not?

And so it came to be that I woke naturally to the sunrise over Bear Lake.

That I drove an hour away to explore a cave full of ice simply because I was awake and bored, and the diner didn't open for another hour.

That I spent two delicious hours picking at my pancakes, sipping hot chocolate, and feeling way more important than I really am while I used my phone as a wireless hot spot and submitted my review.

That I traveled back to 1852 and got a one-on-one tour (and a million good teaching ideas) at the Oregon Trail museum.

That I enjoyed a 90-minute hike inside a cave... without having to worry about one of my kids destroying the natural formations.

And that I ended the day wishing that I could intentionally achieve the loose curls that resulted from sleeping in my car and hiking in the rain!

Of course, now all I want to do is take my family back to each of those spots and enjoy it all over again with them. 

And find another adventure to try... alone.