Yesterday started like any other Wednesday. I got up at 4:30. I got myself out the door. I drove to Boston. I ran with my Back on My Feet team. And I sweat like hell.
Since it would be impossible for me to drive an hour back to my house to take a shower before work, I opted to shower at one of my co-workers houses, who lives a few miles from the office. How convenient! I pulled up to his house and applauded my own good luck for finding a parking spot right in front of his building. Oh how cocky I was.
Since I had locked my car during the run earlier that morning, I had taken the car key off the key ring and tied it to my running shoe laces. So when I took the single key out of the car's ignition, I thought to myself "Bridget, it would be mightly smart if you put this key back on the key ring now so you don't lose it later." Then I grabbed my bags and scampered up his steps.
This was my first in time my co-worker's home, so I admired the view of the city street below from his living room window while he finished getting ready for a meeting. When I peered out at my car below though, I noticed for the first time that I was parked directly in front of a no parking sign.
Oh, haha, silly me. Didn't even notice that now, did I? So I grabbed the keys and headed downstairs to move the car up a few feet. And when I got to the car, what did I see? The single car key sitting on the driver's seat behind the locked car door. MOTHER.FUCKER.
So I rushed up the stairs, called B at work and was all, "so I locked the key in the car and I'm parked in a No Parking zone in the city," and he was all, "..." and I was all, "B?" And he was all, "WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?"
There is no remote to B's car. Nor is there a spare key. We don't have AAA. B was an hour away at work. And I had to be at the office in an hour. No big deal right?
Finally, we decided that I would call AAA, pretend to be B's sister who is a AAA member, and see if I could get away with it. When the AAA man pulled up, his arms covered in sleeves of tats and his tinted sunglasses slung low, he asked for my membership card. This was my type of dude. "Ummmm ... I don't have it?" Then he asked me for a form of ID. "Ummmmmmm ... I don't have that either?" And he was all, "you don't have your license?" And I was all, "I dunno?" and gave him my best doe eyes. A good three minutes of uncomfortable silence from AAA Dude followed, until he finally shrugged his blessed little shoulders and popped my lock. And then I was all, "MARRY ME AAA MAN." My day and no doubt a VERY expensive towing fee had been saved by the Dude.
And after all that, I STILL made it to work by 9, with a confusing mix of feelings of "good lawd I'm dumb" and "hells yes I'm awesome" floating in my head. When I got to the office, I found one of the office interns waiting outside. He was locked out and wanted to know if I had a key. "Of course I have a key! Hooo boy walk with me and I'll tell you a little story about being locked out!" I said as I reached my hand in my bag to pull out my office keys. And in the pocket where those keys usually live was nothing put a few pennies and an empty gum wrapper. MOTHER.FUCKER.
Once again, the keys were sitting in plain sight, right on top of my desk behind the locked office door. And so we waited for the next person to show up to work. And waited. And waited some more while I pondered the meaning of locked doors as an omen of impending doom. Finally one of my co-workers arrived and let us all into the office.
Later that morning, once I was finally settled at my desk and cranking out some work, B called me. "You locked the house."
"You locked the house and my sister needs to get in to walk the dog."
"I married the most retarded person I've ever met in my life."
"Yeah, well your feet smell like mold SO WE'RE EVEN."
For the rest of the day, I walked around in a state of complete paranoia. When I went to the bathroom, I was worried I'd somehow lock myself in the stall and no one would find me for days and I'd have to survive by drinking toilet water and chewing on toilet paper to pass the time. Surely, the building was about to catch on fire and I'd find myself locked in the office with no choice but to jump out the seventh floor window. Every corner I turned, I expected to find a locked door and my only chance of survival on the other side.
At home last night while baking cookies for a friend, I explained to B that I generally consider myself to have pretty good luck. I think I just needed to get that day out of my system and then I'd be good to go for the rest of the year. And he was all, "or maybe you're just a liiiiiittle dumb." And I was all, "always a distinct possibility." Then I pulled a tray of perfectly golden cookies out of the oven, burnt my hand, and dropped the entire tray on to the floor just as a splatter of melted butter hit the bottom of the oven, sent up a plume of smoke, and set off every smoke detector on the first floor.