Speaking of Ditzes....

I can read and write, tie my shoes, remember to breathe in and out, tell right from left, and have even taken a course in logic. On the basis of these accomplishments, I have always considered myself slightly superior to other blondes. Unfortunately, this illusion was shattered today. I can no longer escape the curses of my hair color. I am a Class-A dumb blonde.

On my way to a violin lesson today, I went through the drivethrough window at the bank. Having noticed a sign requesting that customers turn of their engines to prevent fumes entering the building, I obligingly did so and absentmindedly removed the keys from the ignition.

Once my transaction was completed, I reached for the ignition and was startled to remember that I had moved the keys and could not remember where I had put them. I glanced guiltily up at the girl inside the bank who was watching me with a puzzled look.

"I can't...umm...find my...umm..keys. They're around here somewhere.."

They weren't in the cupholder.

They weren't on the floor.

They weren't in my purse.

They weren't on the ground.

People were waiting behind me.

My future life flashed before my eyes. I would have to call home on my cell phone for someone to bring a spare key. Someone would have to explain to the cars behind me that the girl in the green van had been stupid enough to lose her keys. I'd have to sit there and wait under the amused/annoyed glances of the tellers. My family would never let me live it down. Maybe the bank would even suspect me of some deep dyed plot to cause trouble.

I opened the door to stand up and really search. And there they were, just hiding on the seat under a fold of my skirt.

"Found 'em," I informed the teller, who was watching with raised eyebrows. "I'm such a ditz today," I added sheepishly, and got out of that place as fast as I could.

A mile down the road, I realized I had stolen the bank's pen.

After my lesson I returned it at another branch, to the amusement of the tellers there.

It's been quite a day.