When you borrow a car, and you put your dogs in it for all of thirty feet while you drive through a gate, and a dog accidentally slaps the old button-style door lock while watching you close the gate, locking your key in the ignition and your phone on the front seat, and you’d just filled the tank to full maybe eight minutes before so it’s going to run forever, and you try all the doors and windows and nothing moves, so you finally run through the night to the house from which you borrowed the car to ring the doorbell and ask for the second key and just hope you can get there and back before a dog accidentally puts the car in gear.
And then somehow your Fitbit does not count a single step of it.
At least I am rarely bored.
