Three Random Numbers
I found an old waterproof pill case in my junk drawer. I gave it a shake and didn't hear anything inside, but since I knew it'd nag me all day if I didn't look, I unscrewed it and checked. My baseless compulsion to open it was rewarded when I saw a small, folded-up piece of paper inside. What could this hold? Some love note from a stranger? The password to a photo account that I'd long forgotten? Directions to a safety deposit box? I considered sealing it up and locking it away for a few more years, but curiosity got the better of me. On it I found three numbers: 3, 12, 23. And then I remembered what it was. When I'd used a lock with a combination at the gym, I'd been so paranoid that I would forget my combination and have to run three miles home in my sweaty workout clothes in the dead of winter that I wrote it down in this pill case and then kept it tied in my gym shorts pocket. I wish I could say that I put the pill case away because I grew confident in my ability to remember three random numbers. But the truth is that I ended up buying a lock where I could set the combination myself so that I wouldn't need to ever remember random numbers again.
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