Ever feel so stressed, stretched so thin, you could not possibly bear for one more thing to go wrong? This is a story of the kind of stress that is too much for me right now:
I lost my keys yesterday. And the keys of a friend whose dog I was looking after.
Said keys were lost while walking aforementioned dog.
Also lost that day: what little remained of my calm.
Time: noon
Heat: 90 degrees
Dog: walked about a mile. No stops were made. Ok, a stop to bark at a squirrel. A stop to rub her face on the grass. A stop to confirm that she does not like playing in the fountain. A stop to rub her face in more grass.
Keys: discovered missing when walk is nearly finished.
Steps: retraced.
Dog: thirsty, confused.
Regina: thirsty, without phone or wallet.
Keys: never found.
Dog: tied to porch while Regina tries to get into the house.
7 foot high gate into friend's alley: climbed.
Back door to dog owner's house: open.
Baby Jesus: thanked.
Phone charging happily on counter: used to call mother.
Mother: agrees to pick up/rescue sweaty, dirty Regina.
Regina: peels back a section of the backyard fence; walks two blocks around to front of house where dog is secured. Walks two blocks back with dog to force dog through fence opening into yard.
Fence: re-secured.
Dog: hugged and watered, left to nap inside her home.
Belongings: gathered. Except for pesky missing keys.
7 foot high gate from alley into street: climbed.
Mother: picks up sweaty, dirty Regina.
