Waking the Deadbolt

Desperate times call for desperate measures...and those desperate measures can sometimes make you all the more desperate (or, perhaps, simply a bit anxious).

After spending the lion's share of last week up in the mountains on continuing education, I found myself back at home on Friday with a morning completely devoted to errands. As I prepared to leave the house, I went through the checklist: "Coupon for haircut, check. Deposit slip for bank, check. Note I need to drop off at church, check. CDs to listen to in the car, check, and so on and so on. As I was organizing myself and all of these things, I reflexively slipped the doorknob over to lock and close the door. It was only when I got to my car that I realized that my keys had been left inside.

Now...I don't know if I'm the only one who does this or not, but when faced with a situation like this, I usually go through three stages:
1) Realization. I quickly do the math and realize how dumb I really am. In this case, I realize that Julie is in Fort Collins, my cell phone is in with my keys, and the spare we have been keeping at somebody else's house is inside thanks to the last time I locked my keys in the house (Yes, this was instance #2. Shut up.). I soon realized that I really didn't have any options, and that my morning (if not my entire day) was about to be filled with long walks and/or bugging people to use their phones.
2) Self-Chastising. Faced with the reality of my own short sightedness, I usually replace normal breathing with a quiet, personal monologue. This past Friday it was, "I'm so stupid, I'm so stupid, I'm so stupid..." as I desperately walked around the yard and garage. Why was I walking around the yard and garage? Well, because of...
3) Dumb Idea Mode. In situations like these, I am so desperate to save my day and/or calling Julie to inconvenience/admit my stupidity to her, I usually consider a whole host of completely stupid, illogical ideas before I do anything that makes sense. Friday, this meant that after I found out that the neighbors weren't home (thus eliminating the "Call the Locksmith--Pretend Nothing Happened" contingency), I combed all through the garage, "just in case Julie or I had dropped a spare key at some time." I followed that winner up with the "maybe Julie put a spare under our doormats and didn't tell me" theory. Pure genius.

Anyway...you get the picture. Slightly distressed man, wandering around his yard and house, pockets crammed full of coupons, notes, and bank slips, muttering "I'm so stupid" to himself. Yeah. I'd want him to be my pastor.

Finally, I stumble on to one more dumb idea. I pull a credit card (actually, a movie rental membership card...slightly more flexible) out of my wallet and walk to the door. It took me 30 seconds.

This caused a strange set of emotions. There was, of course, elation at first. The humiliating call to Julie (and the corresponding "You're smarter than this...you really are" look) was avoided, and my day was saved. But then, slowly, it dawned on me. I just got into my house in 30 seconds without having a key. It usually takes me upwards of a minute to get in when I have my keys (I am a large key ring guy). A complete stranger could actually beat me into my own house. This is not a good thing. Suddenly, a bit more of that small town naivety melted away...and that's always a sad thing.

And so, we learned two important lesson this weekend. First, we will now employ the deadbolt every time we leave the house...and, I know, it's a big pain to take that extra ten seconds to lock it...but hey, it's family. And...even though we may be a bit nervous about intruders...we will also be keeping another key hidden somewhere on our property. Because we learned another important thing this weekend: We may be willing to roll the dice on security for six months in our new house, but gamble on me actually being observant?

Yeah...nobody's taking those odds.