It wasn't my best day, that's for sure. In the mid-afternoon, i put on my running clothes, looked at the house-key on a neck lanyard, walked downstairs, and closed the door behind me. Only i'd not actually picked up the lanyard nor put it around my neck. So no key. Just in case, i tried the door—locked, of course. Argh! And before leaving, i'd just made double-sure the back door was locked!
So i head off for my run, dreading the locked house that awaits my return. When i get back, i try the doors again—just for form's sake. What else am i supposed to do? I look at the windows, which i know are all securely locked. And even if they aren't, i wouldn't really want to pry off the screen to check. My landlords are away for the day, and my fiancé isn't due home from work for four hours. Four hours!
I walk around the house, looking in nooks and crannies, hoping against hope that some former resident might have stashed an emergency key and left it there after they moved. Nothing. And i'm not about to break into my own apartment, let alone the landlord's. So now i get to wait. And it's January, so it's not warm out, either.
Two things save me: first, there's an unheated hallway for me to shelter in, closed off from the wind; second, there's the day's mail that i had just picked up. So i look through a big Pottery Barn catalog—for what seems like hours—and an alumni magazine of a school i knew nothing about. And i pace, to keep warm. Because it feels like it must close to freezing out. So i flex my big muscle groups. And do crouches and knee bends. But my hips are really beginning to ache, from an old injury.
Every so often, a car goes by our driveway. And so i peer out, through the plastic-covered window screens, hoping. Pace up and down the hallway, peer out, tense some muscles, and go back to pacing. It's starting to get dark out, and the clouds become tinged with reddish orange. More cars. More pacing.
The sounds of a car draw my attention. Salvation! I can get inside, finally! But no, it's just a car turning around in the nearby intersection. Really, i know it's still way too early. More pacing. Now it's full dark out. I try counting, deliberately, just to pass the time; i finally reach six hundred—ten minutes or so—enough. More pacing.
Then the sounds of a car in the driveway. I peer out the window. Our car. It's over. Hooray!
So that's why i didn't have time to make a blog entry yesterday. Whew!
So i head off for my run, dreading the locked house that awaits my return. When i get back, i try the doors again—just for form's sake. What else am i supposed to do? I look at the windows, which i know are all securely locked. And even if they aren't, i wouldn't really want to pry off the screen to check. My landlords are away for the day, and my fiancé isn't due home from work for four hours. Four hours!
I walk around the house, looking in nooks and crannies, hoping against hope that some former resident might have stashed an emergency key and left it there after they moved. Nothing. And i'm not about to break into my own apartment, let alone the landlord's. So now i get to wait. And it's January, so it's not warm out, either.
Two things save me: first, there's an unheated hallway for me to shelter in, closed off from the wind; second, there's the day's mail that i had just picked up. So i look through a big Pottery Barn catalog—for what seems like hours—and an alumni magazine of a school i knew nothing about. And i pace, to keep warm. Because it feels like it must close to freezing out. So i flex my big muscle groups. And do crouches and knee bends. But my hips are really beginning to ache, from an old injury.
Every so often, a car goes by our driveway. And so i peer out, through the plastic-covered window screens, hoping. Pace up and down the hallway, peer out, tense some muscles, and go back to pacing. It's starting to get dark out, and the clouds become tinged with reddish orange. More cars. More pacing.
The sounds of a car draw my attention. Salvation! I can get inside, finally! But no, it's just a car turning around in the nearby intersection. Really, i know it's still way too early. More pacing. Now it's full dark out. I try counting, deliberately, just to pass the time; i finally reach six hundred—ten minutes or so—enough. More pacing.
Then the sounds of a car in the driveway. I peer out the window. Our car. It's over. Hooray!
So that's why i didn't have time to make a blog entry yesterday. Whew!
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