The horrible night I lost my keys

Many years ago, when particularly exhausted during a drive home from a late-night shift at work, my right arm happened to hit my right thigh. Not feeling the ring of keys that I have always - ALWAYS - kept in my right pants pocket, I instinctively knew something was terribly wrong. I quickly checked my other pockets, though I knew that was futile. No keys!

Thoughts flew through my mind, as I got more and more panicky:

"Should I return to work to search for the keys?" "I don't know how to get in the building at this hour, so I've just got to go home." "But how will I get into the house when I get there?" "What's going on? I've never misplaced my keys before." "I guess I could climb into the house through a window." "It's still so early - should I wake someone to help me?" "Uh oh. I have to work again later today - how will I be able to get to work without the keys to start the car?" "I'll be trapped at home, helpless without my keys!" "Hey! Maybe someone TOOK my keys, so they could get access to my house or possibly steal my car."

"Car...," my sleep-deprived brain thought. "I know I'm forgetting something important about the car. Oh yeah! I'm driving the car right now!"

That awareness alone should have been more than enough. But, in my confused state, I actually had to look down to reassure myself that my ring of keys were, in fact, dangling from the car ignition.