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Are you the Keymaster?

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Are you the Keymaster?

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"Organize keychain" has actually been sitting on my to do list for a while, and for good reason. After accounting for three car keys to vehicles that have been either sold or scrapped, the second set to my current car, my tag to get into my underused former gym, two carabiners, my flip-flop keychain and enough actual rings for me to make my own Olympic Games logo, I'm left with 8 unidentified keys:

-- One goes to Mom and Bob's condo - couldn't tell you which one, though.

-- One goes to the padlock that was bought for use on a storage locker, which lock I am pretty sure is still around somewhere.

-- Two are to the inner and outer doors of an apartment building I once frequented. I'm certain I know which ones they are, and I plan to keep them for sentimental value, but I will first test them in the other places, as moral certainty is trumped by actual certainty.

-- I may have one to my dad's house in this mix (a possibility strengthened by the presence of a keyring that I know came from him, though I seem to recall that it actually accompanied some of the now-defunct with car keys).

-- One is most likely an unreturned key to nekouken's last apartment.

That leaves only a 1/4 chance of even potential usefulness for any one key, and three keys about which I have no clue at all. They definitely won't be useful - I haven't historically known that many people well enough for key exchanges. None of them can possibly be unique or necessary - they're just remainders from all the address changes I've been through from 1999 to now (6 including the current one), spares I forgot to return, neglected to remove at the appropriate moment, and eventually lost track of completely.

I don't have a neat psychological reason for wanting keys - I don't have strong feelings about them. If anything, keychains in general symbolize the fear of violation to body and/or property, which I would resist if I didn't carry it myself; for me personally, they also stand for the many unpleasant times when I have either locked myself out of a building or car or lost my keys altogether. At one time I had an actual reputation for losing keys, and even though it's been a while since I lost a set of keys at this point, I still take occasional ribbing for it. The lame truth is that my old keyring was just a portable junk drawer.

On a side note, I have been told that large keyrings are stereotypical of lesbians. I'm also told that you chew ice when you're horny, though, and I've never noticed that to be appreciably true. My faith in "folk wisdom" is not exactly staggering.

On the happy side, my current keyring is trim and has been for over a year (a bad habit broken after the weight of the junk drawer keys threatened to break my ignition!), and now that I've gone through the old ones, I have a new and even trimmer set of spares - which include the elusive spare to my apartment, so I'm ready for my next trip out of town. The remaining mystery keys will go in the baggage the next time I head for Chicago, and I will cull the useful ones and dispose of the rest. Then I can cross another item off my perennial to do list.

Blah blah blah, blah blah. Also, blah. This is too many words for just talking about keys. Time for bed.
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