This Is My Life

Who am I?
Who am I? What is my life?

Folks, the other night shit got weird. Remember my recent blog, “What is my life?” Well, although I was convinced there would be some sort of shift with a new year at bay, don’t worry – my existence continues to be full of awkward and unfortunate moments on a daily basis.

Case and point – Thursday night. I was tucked in my apartment writing a paper for my “Sexual and Gender Orientation and Intersubjectivity” course. I struggle just looking at the title for that course (as I make them up myself) and try to remember just how much wine I drank when I wrote that syllabus because what is that?

I take a break from the books and head down to my all-to-creepy basement to switch my laundry over. Now, when I leave my apartment I always turn the lower lock, and out of habit – I do so mistakenly this time. As the door clicked shut behind me, a feeling of terror washed over; I knew exactly what I had done. I lingered in my hallway for a bit not quite knowing what to do – I was wearing sweatpants with an unfortunately low crotch, a tee-shirt boasting a Native American that said “I Have Reservations” on it, snow boots, no bra,  and my greasy hair was piled atop my head in a way that gravity shouldn’t even have allowed. Yes, I was a hot mess express and suddenly – I was out in the world.

I went downstairs and knocked on my neighbors door – they had lived in the same apartment below me for 7 years so I assumed they had run into this problem before and knew the solution. I was wrong. However, as my phone was locked away with my life one floor above they attempted to help me get in touch with our mutual slum lord Chuck (which proved unsuccessful) and we finally settled on calling a lock smith. Did I mention that they were trying to get ready to go on a date while this all was happening? Their babysitter was running late so I offered to watch their kids in the meantime. They left and eventually the baby-sitter showed up, understandably confused why there was a weird white girl in her pajamas drinking beer and rolling around on the ground pretending to be a crocodile “eating” her clientele (they loved it).

After two and a half hours of (un)patiently waiting, an unmarked car rolls up to the curb. A stocky man steps out of the car and into the shadows of the night – with a heavy Russian accent he asks “You call-a the locksmith?” My gut instinct was to reply “No!” and scamper back inside to the comfort of my neighbors apartment but as I was in a bind – I admitted the truth. He follows me up my back stairwell and I take the babysitter and kids with me, figuring this way I am less likely to end up buried in my own backyard. It takes him a few minutes but eventually he busts open the door and then disappears with more of my money than I care to admit.

I shut the door behind him and then for good measure, I decided to test the door and make sure everything was working. Low and behold, I was now locked in. It would not budge, no matter what I tried – it was broken. Granted I probably should have checked the door before the guy left with my money, but really – I just wanted him out of my apartment as quickly as possible.

My relief of being “in” quickly shifted to turmoil. I did not pass go or collect $200, nor did I work my way up to complete existential crisis mode. I bought an express ticket to crazy-town and arrived immediately. I decided that this occurrence meant life clearly did not want me to succeed in any endeavor and that the universe was definitively working against me. I called my most level-headed friend, Mary-Beth, who I think tried to pretend she wasn’t appalled by the fact I was essentially ready to stick my head in the oven over my situation. Like Mary-Beth often does: she owned. She called the company, and while it took an additional two hours; got the guy to come back and fix the door – putting an end to the great lock-out/in caper of 2013.

I learned a few important lessons from this:

1. I need to be 1/16 less dramatic in 2013 (Thanks, Clyde)

2.  I need to be 1/16 less dramatic in 2013

3.  I need to be 1/16 less dramatic in 2013

4.  I need to be 1/16 less dramatic in 2013

5. I need to be 1/16 less dramatic in 2013

This is my life.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s