memoir writers homework-lost keys

I was  in a big rush when I got home from school on Monday afternoon,school being Grant McEwan Community College in Edmonton,Alberta.That's because I volunteered at a local hospital on Monday evenings.I had just enough time to grab something out of the refrigerator for dinner and gulp it down as I was running through the shower.So,when I came in,I put my keys on top of the refrigerator and opened up the door looking for something appetizing,or at least edible.And I heard a dull sort of a plop,thinking"that was my keys."I was hardly new to the experience of losing keys.My refrigerator was an older model with just the one door.The small freezer was inside.At first,it occurred to me that my keys must have fallen on the floor,either in front of or beside the fridge.I couldn't find them in front,so I grabbed a flashlight and looked beside the fridge,between it and the stove.Again,no keys.So I pulled the fridge out from the wall,because there was really only one other place they could be,and that would be behind the fridge.Not the easiest place to get at,especially when I was in a hurry,and I had a tiny galley kitchen.Looking down behind the fridge,an action which required me to partly straddle the stove,I made a discovery.That discovery was that while most people have an impressive collection of dust bunnies behind their fridge and stove,I had dust kangaroos.What I did not discover,to my intense dismay was my keys.So I left my place unlocked and went to the hospital.When I returned,I spent two more hours looking for my keys to no avail.I covered all the ground I had before I left,a number of times,then decided they must be in the fridge.I looked on each shelf and in the crisper.I discovered a couple of interesting science projects,but again,no keys.Now this was no real disaster as I kept an extra set in my locker at school,as well as at a close friends house.But it did mean I would have to leave the apartment unlocked until I came home the next day.When I did,there had been no break and enter and nothing was out of place.Not so much luck,because I lived in a very good building.But my keys were still missing.And I'd searched every inch of the kitchen over and over.I had no idea as to where they might be found.

On Thursday morning as I was getting my breakfast of grapefruit sausage and milk,I poured the last of a two liter milk container into my glass.I also poured my keys into the glass.They had fallen from the top of the refrigerator directly into the open spout of the milk container,which on Monday had been almost full.Over the years,both before and since I've lost my keys many times.I'm a walking disaster with a set of keys,and always have been.But I've never been able to top that milk carton as a place to hide keys from myself.

memoir writers homework-hidden fear.

There really is no better reason for my hidden fear than falling from a roof top.You see,I was paying more attention to something on the ground than to the new shingles I was trying to nail down.And I backed up,far to close to the edgeand started to fall straight back.It seemed as though I had a lot of timeto think about things on the way down,and to develop a brand new phobia.My father had said hewas going to visit the neighbor,about a half mile away.But did he say he was walking or takeing the car?Because if he was walking,the car was about to have a me shaped sunroof installed,as soon as I hit bottom.And of course,there was the wood pile along the side of the cottage.I must,at all costs avoid that I thought,imagining what a sizeable pile if maple and birch logs would do to me.So when I tipped over the edge,I pushed out with my feet and hoped it was enough.when I landed,after what seemed like a very long time it was on our grassy driveway,in a huge puddle.It felt kind of spongy,but my tail bone still ached once I got uo.My back and legs were sore too.But no one had seen me and I would be damned if I was going to tell anyone what I had done all for the view of  that girl in her bright orange bikini..And I managed to conceal the truth,not just from my parents,who wondered about how I had aquired a limp for a few days,but from everyone else including myself as well.

Then came the day I hired on to disassemble a whole warehouse full of shelving,some of it about sixty feet from the floor.And I simply had not given the past it's due.I used to enjoy being in some place where I could look down on the world.But not any more.Climbing up those shelves so I could take them apart was complete hell.I would get dizzy when I first climbed up and would have to sit there for some time to become accostomed to the height.And working up there with anyone else around me was out of the question.But,by breathing deeply,praying to God and keeping focused on what was directly in front of me I got through the two months that it took to tear down all those shelves and rebuild them in a different warehouse.But the worst part of the whole thing was coming back down at the end of the day.Once I crawled up to where I was working,I would only ever come down if the work made it unavoidable,or,preferably,once,at the end of the day.I dreaded that trip back down to the floor,because I actually had to look down.And I tried very hard to convince myself that my fear was irrational and that I could do the job.And,more than anything else,I didn't want anyone to know what was really going on in my mind.

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