The dishwasher repairman came today. (We have a leak.) He needed to get into the mechanical room in the basement, but it was locked.
“No problem,” I said. “I have a key.” I pulled out my keys, but they were the spare set to the truck, not my truck key and school keys.
Dang it.
I tried everyone else’s keys, but apparently I am the only one with an ‘H’ key. “I’ll be right back.”
I ran home. Actually, I ran through the parking lot, across the street, through the church parking lot and into the truck, then drove home.
I felt funny in the car.
At home, I felt funny.
No actually barfing, but I sure coulda.