Keys in the Fridge

I spent twenty minutes this morning looking for my keys. Twenty minutes of turning cushions, retracing steps, and muttering things that would make a monk blush. Just as I was about to surrender, I found them in the fridge. Don’t ask.

At first, I was frustrated. But then I laughed, really laughed, because honestly, how often do we let minor mishaps ruin our day? Life is full of misplaced priorities, confusing moments and surprises that make no sense. And yet the sun still rises, the coffee still brews and hope keeps showing up, even if we can’t explain how.

Sometimes hope is the laughter that sneaks in when you least expect it, the ridiculous reminder that life is bigger than our panic, and that tomorrow, or maybe five minutes later, you might find your keys, your footing or a reason to smile.

By the time I left the house, keys in hand and sanity mostly intact, I felt lighter. Life had played a prank, yes, but also offered a quiet, joyful truth. Hope often shows up disguised as absurdity.