I’ve decided to take a break from dating. It’s been twenty days since the new year started, and I’ve been on a total of three dates. After some reflection, I’ve come to the conclusion that almost everyone I talk to has decided to never leave their homeland, called Maine. That’s just not going to work for me.
You see, today I lost my keys in six inches of snow. Never in my life did I think I would lose my keys in snow. Did you know that when you drop your keys on fresh snow, they don’t make a sound? The snow catches the fall, making it pretty much soundless.
Picture this: I’m leaving work after my twelve-hour shift to get into my preheated car, only to shut my door and hear beeping. Beeping because my car can’t sense the keys. I thought my car was just being funny because my keys were in my pocket. Well, I put my hand in my pocket and, lo and behold, NO KEYS. I make my way back inside my workplace, thinking maybe I left them on the table. No keys were found on the table.
Okay, okay… a slight panic sets in as I walk back outside in SIX INCHES of snow. I get to the side of my car, look down, and my heart drops as soon as I realize I must have dropped them in the snow. Mind you, I’m in sweatpants and a sweatshirt—I’m in no way dressed to go digging through the snow, but I must. Thirty very frustrating minutes later, I give up and go home to the house I’m unable to unlock. I can hear my dog whine on the other side of the door as I try to pick my lock with a bobby pin and nail clippers. It didn’t work.
I call my landlord, leaving a voice message, weeping for someone to come help me. Thankfully, the snowplow man came to my rescue and unlocked my door within my ten-minute breakdown. As I walk into my apartment, I realize that if I don’t find my keys in the snow today, I’ll most likely never find them again. So, I recruit some friends for my next dig.
Imagine trying to find your keys at the bottom of a sandbox. Can’t be too hard, right? Well, we were out there shoveling and brooming in the freezing cold, all in disbelief at how we couldn’t find my keys in such a small area. I kicked the snow with my boot in anger… and you wouldn’t believe what came flying out of the snow. MY FUCKING KEYS. From a pile of snow I had already gone over what felt like a million times, and out came my keys.
Losing my keys to snow CANNOT be a concern I have in my future.
And that is why I’ve decided to take a nice long break from dating in Maine.