Welcome to the Mistake or Sick Joke Victims club.
The other morning before work, we drove to Marshall Crag so he could pick up his motorcycle. I thought I finally saw the end of long commutes when one had to make a detour to drop the other one off at work. We only arrived there to find out the key was not there. And I had to drop him off and then went all the way back up north to Redwood City in the traffic.
The other afternoon after a day of hardwork on the house, we left for a 4-hour drive to Russian Gulch hoping to get there around 7 or 8 and maybe have some of the abalones that Factor and his brother caught during the day. After the windy Woodside and then sitting in the traffic all the way through San Francisco, I asked "did you bring your fishing license?" Till this day, I still regret having asked, because it turned us around back to the even worse traffic. We didn't get to the camp until 11pm.