Thoughts in a garage.

The other day I found myself in my new garage for an extended period of time. Not by choice, of course. The door turned phantom on me and locked me out—for real. Instead of doing practical stuff like organizing the garage (which is obviously a man’s job) I hopped in the Honda and felt terribly sorry for myself.

I did all the logical things to try and get myself back in, obviously. I strolled up the street and borrowed some complete strangers phone to call Brandon. I tried hoisting myself up onto our patio on the second floor, I even brought a ladder around and tried it. To no avail, I was locked out.

This same sort of thing happened right when we moved to Boise. I had gone on a run, locked the door on the inside, and took a new key copy with me that I had just made at Home Depot. When I got back I realized my new key didn’t work. That time I was at least stranded with my phone and shoes, and Brandon rescued me quickly after. This time I had my garage, all of its contents, and a car. No keys but a car. I am thinking it must be some sort of new house initiation process you must go through. Anyhow, I found some paper and a pen in the car and recorded my thoughts, because I am an English teacher by trade, and you can’t help but record these types of experiences. And also because when you have over two hours in a garage you have a lot of thoughts. Here you go:

1. The lady up the street must think that a total hippie has moved in. Lady I promise I do typically wear shoes, and I don’t always wear tie-dye. And there is usually not this much dirt under my nails I’ve just been busy planting a garden on my patio. (Maybe that doesn’t help my hippie case.) But, can I use your phone? My carrier pigeon is out delivering a message and hasn’t returned…

2.  Maybe I should pull down my clarinet and play a sprightly tune for our new neighbors. What better way to announce to the neighborhood that we’re new and that the fun has truly arrived? Besides, I’ve heard that clarinet jigs are all the rage these days.

3. Good thing my yarn tote has made it to Denver. Maybe I should crochet the nice lady up the street a beanie for her baby. I am sure that would solidify any previous impression she’s had of me thus far.

4. Is there actually someone in my house that turned the lock? I’ve never encountered a phantom door handle before. If so, I hope he/she unpacks the office. It’s an utter disaster.

5. Bladder control yourself.

6. Why did I leave my Harry Potter book playing? Faintly hearing Jim Dale's voice could possibly be the worst bit of this all. Jim, can’t you just speak up?

7. How long has this Twix bar been in here? It doesn’t taste right...

8. I hope Brandon enjoys the message I left on his voicemail, “Hello. Well, I am locked out. Don’t worry about calling back. But maybe it would be nice if you got off a touch early today. Okay, well I’ll be in the garage.”

And you can tell that I obviously got back in. Along with it I got this great story. But, now I feel like this really is home since I was able to survive the locked out initiation process. At least it’s not like find a big rat in your house initiation process. I consider myself pretty darn lucky :)

Have a fantastic Friday!