Keith Snyder

So Friday afternoon, I'm carrying my bike panniers into Starbucks, and one feels a little light. My laptop isn't in its suspended sleeve.

The day before, I left the power supply at the day job, so obviously my brain damage has spread, and this time I remembered the power supply and spaced on packing up the laptop.

It was a long, long weekend.

This morning, the laptop's not in the office. One of three things has happpened:

It's been stolen.
Somebody noticed it in my office and put it somewhere safe.
It's under the bed at home, where I put it in the evenings when I'm too lazy to get out of bed and slip it in its sleeve in the pannier, and I'm wrong when I remember having it at the office on Friday.

No one is home to check under the bed.

I feel a strange sense of calm.

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Keith Snyder Door always open.
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