One day last week yours truly “scooted” down the hall and returned to find the key in the lock and the door unlocked. This is not usual. Having grown up in a city, keeping the door locked was something taught at an early age; use of key was known in elementary school. Locked doors do not keep out anyone (or anything) determined to get in, but if they’re locked, they are a discouragement. With trips down the hall being about five minutes and all but the door to the stairs and the doorway visible, the event was just a rude alert.
That was last week. Last evening the freezer door was pulled open to get something for supper. The door pulled too easily prompting some curious looking. A tiny packet of icing that came with pastry but was not used had slid down between the freezer door and the frame of the refrigerator. The freezer door had been ajar maybe an eighth of an inch and long enough for some things to defrost, no big deal as the freezer continued to operate and things were cold, but another rude alert. It’s called “having too much on the mind.”
One of the holes in one of the air beds may have been found. That alone doesn’t do much, but it’s something that makes that concern at least that much less to have “on the mind.” Basic needs, even if not absolutely fundamental, have a way of being sizably distracting in a state of malfunction or absence. The most annoying aspect of such things is not even the malfunction or absence, but the inability to easily do something about it, a something that was once quite a simple matter and still is for a good many people the same age.
Winners win on one bet.