First thing up, last thing down
I have a little ritual when I move. Ok, in reality I have a whole bunch of rituals, but I'm only going to share this one. I learned long ago that if I do not put my keys in exactly the same spot each and every time I enter the house, I will never, ever remember where they are. This led to me buying a cute little key rack that hangs near my front door. Which then led to me buying an even cuter little sister key rack to hang by the back door. The very minute I enter the house, my keys go immediately to one of the hooks on the closest rack. It's such an automatic move for me, that, upon arriving at someone else's house, I look to see where their rack is and am vaguely disappointed when there isn't one. I am a little worried that one day, I will enter a friend's house, see no key hook nearby, and by virtue of old age dissolving the filter between my brain and my mouth, I will shout out WHERE IS THE KEY RACK, YOU IDIOTS? I will be so appalled at myself that I will immediately add I BROUGHT WINE! Because a nice bottle of wine says "I am happy to be here" whereas a shouted key rack rant perhaps does not. Just in case that dissolving thing kicks in before my 80s, I never arrive at anyone's house without wine.
Whenever I move out of an apartment, one of the little racks is the last thing off the wall. It travels with me in the car, because yes, I will even lose my keys in a virtually empty apartment. Once in my new digs, one of the very first things I do is hang the rack on the wall. I'm not saying I am OCD about this, but yeah, I kind of am. It's the last thing down, first thing up. I also travel with my favorite coffee cup and 2 wine glasses, but in a pinch those can be packed. Because Starbucks has cups and wine goes down quite nicely when drunk (drank? guzzled?) from a plastic Solo cup. I suppose that if worse came to worse, I could just hammer in a nail and call it good, but that seems so uncivilized in a concrete block bookcase, bare bulb hanging from the ceiling way.
It's a little ritual that might not make sense to anyone else but me, and one that is definitely not important to anyone else but me, but it's my little ritual and I'm keeping it.
Whenever I move out of an apartment, one of the little racks is the last thing off the wall. It travels with me in the car, because yes, I will even lose my keys in a virtually empty apartment. Once in my new digs, one of the very first things I do is hang the rack on the wall. I'm not saying I am OCD about this, but yeah, I kind of am. It's the last thing down, first thing up. I also travel with my favorite coffee cup and 2 wine glasses, but in a pinch those can be packed. Because Starbucks has cups and wine goes down quite nicely when drunk (drank? guzzled?) from a plastic Solo cup. I suppose that if worse came to worse, I could just hammer in a nail and call it good, but that seems so uncivilized in a concrete block bookcase, bare bulb hanging from the ceiling way.
It's a little ritual that might not make sense to anyone else but me, and one that is definitely not important to anyone else but me, but it's my little ritual and I'm keeping it.
