Close Call

This morning, I did one of the stupidest things I've done in years...but thankfully, the repercussions were few.

About half an hour before my first lesson, I went to get coffee and make some copies of music. I locked the inside part of my front door, closed it, reached into my pocket to get the keys to lock the deadbolt, and HOOOOOOOLY CRAP!!!!

My keys were not in my pocket.

Evidently, when I switched things from the pockets of yesterday's pants to today's (yes, I'm lazy that way), I had neglected the pocket with the keys. This proved to be quite a dilemma, as there are only three other working keys to Casa de Kev. They are in the possession of the following people:

--Halfling. If you've been following this blog, you'll recall that he's at Disney World at the moment.
--Mom and Dad. Again, if you've paid attention, you know they're in China (plus they live 300 miles away even when they're at home).
--Zack. He lives maybe two minutes away, but at 9:30 a.m., I'm thinking he's at work already.

So my only option was to call Zack and hope for the best (OK, besides the unappealing options of throwing down cash for a locksmith or crawling through my unlit, unfloored attic from the garage). I figured I was probably either waking him up or he was long gone, but you gotta do what you gotta do.

Thankfully Zack was not at work yet, and, while not fully awake when I called, he said he needed to be anyway, so over he came in his trusty RSX, saving the day. I had only locked myself out of something two previous times: the car in high school, and the car/apartment (keys were actually in the car, thus locking me out of both) when I first lived in Garland. With any luck, I won't be this careless again anytime soon.