This morning I lost my keys and my son's French Club was hosting a breakfast, and he needed a ride downtown. I search high and low and could not locate them, and I became aggravated. It did not take me long to touch down on the actual dynamic of the story because, during the hunt, I recognized an old pattern of disorganization had emerged, disorganization originating from the working of my brain, and caused by dyslexia.
As in the past, having chosen the proper spot, one I thought was easy to remember, but it was wasn't because it was never the same spot. I was reminded of this by all that frustration having misplaced my keys this morning. The realization of all the wasted time attempting to find what I had lost, allowed me to see the distinct change I have undergone and how uncomfortable I used to be in my own skin.
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