Keillor's Law:
Today was a day that began with my car keys, glasses, billfold, and cellphone in four different locations around the house, which sometimes happens if you are in motion. You set things on a shelf or dresser, or perhaps under a pile of your child's homework, and the next morning you must track them down by tearing around and yelling quietly to yourself. "This is how my life is spent," I cried out to nobody in particular. In the time I have spent looking for car keys, I could've read all of Charles Dickens. Why does this happen? WHY CAN'T I LEAVE THINGS WHERE I CAN FIND THEM? Do I need to hire a personal valet, a small dandruffy man named Basil? Should I install Velcro strips?
(No. The answer, young people, is: Don't Change Your Clothes. Have one jacket with big pockets that you wear every day, no matter what, and keep your essentials in it. People will talk, but it'll save you about six months in your lifetime and you'll get to read "David Copperfield.")
11:44 PM
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