When you look back on your life there are certain moments that make you ask, 'What the hell was I thinking?' This morning, when I carefully checked the doorknob and then just as carefully turned the lock before taking out the trash was just one such moment. I'd fortunately reconsidered my first choice to go bra-less until getting dressed for work, although I hadn't thought as far as putting on shoes. I tossed the little bag of trash into the can, turned around, and discovered that I'd oh-so-carefully locked myself out of the apartment.
At this point I didn't yet know if
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strangecobwebs and The Awesome Roommate had already left for the day, so I spent some quality time banging on the door. When that proved fruitless, I crawled through the morass of mint and The Rose Bush That Ate Silver Spring to make an attempt on the windows. The rose bush duly attacked me and I was wrapped in several vines, lurking in the bushes, struggling to remove the screens from the windows when I saw a stranger wander innocently by.
"Hey!" I said, doing my best to not look like a creepy barefoot girl lurking in the bushes. "Hey, is there some trick to getting back into your apartment after you've locked yourself out?"
He gave me a dubious look but came over and offered helpful suggestions like, "Try calling your roommates," and "Try calling your landlord," and "Try calling a locksmith." My answer to these was basically the same. Namely, that I didn't have my cellphone on me and I didn't have any numbers memorized. (And, for the last one, that I wasn't certain a locksmith would let me into a house for which I was not the owner on record.) Still, he kindly lent me his cellphone and I called the only local number that I *do* have memorized:
lightgetsin. (I had carefully memorized her number when we were roommates because I'd done some similarly stupid thing and couldn't get in touch.)
It went to voicemail.
The kind stranger expressed his sympathies for my plight, took his phone back and went home.
It was at this point that it started to rain.
I stood there contemplating my options: 1) stand in the rain for 8 hours until someone came home. (This option somehow didn't appeal.) 2) See if any neighbors were home and would let me use a computer to email my roommates. (I tried this, but no one answered their doors.) 3) Walk (barefoot) the 1.5 miles to work and hope through some combination of email and telephone I could get in contact with my roommates from there. 4) Cry.
The kind stranger walked past again and said, "I feel really bad for you." I told him that I was thinking of walking to work, only 2 miles away, and he offered to drive me. I love the kind stranger! He dropped me off on the corner and I walked into my work building around 8AM. The office doesn't open until 9, but there are generally people there by 7:30. I knocked on the door and Leslie opened it. There were many wide-eyed stares at my barefoot, jeans-and-old t-shirt-clad appearance.
At least I wasn't in pajamas? And hey, I was wearing a bra. It
totally could have been worse. *facepalm*
Fortunately for me, The Awesome Roommate was online and less than a mile away at Panera. She got me breakfast and coffee (I owe her for eternity!) and let me back into the apartment. I ate, changed, and made it to work on time despite myself. It's a miracle!
In conclusion, I failed at life. How are YOUR days shaping up?
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excited
