Why Do These Things Always Happen To Me?!?
Ok, so my plan is to make this quick and painless... but you know me...
So, fun weekend... blah blah blah... let's fast forward to Sunday night. Me and a friend decided to go out to Dallas to this bar called The Absinthe Lounge to partake in a bit of karaoke. Had a fun time, 2:00 rolls around, we were both hungry and not sleepy, so we decided to do what any respectable girls in our situation would do... we went to Denny's. Why is it that all food just tastes freakin' 100 times better at 2am?? Digressing already, I'll try not to do it again... So we eat, go back to her place to pick up my gas hog... non vw convertible... SUV... and by the time I get home it's around 4:30ish. I was on call Monday morning (you'd know this if you read my post yesterday), and since my casa does not currently support internet access (I say why pay for something you can get for free at work, tee hee hee), I planned to spend the night at my parents and work from there in the morning. So my plan was to pick up Belle and Bailey (the puppies, ie 'the poopies'), and head over to my parent's to sleep for about 3 hours before I had to get up to be on call at 8am. I go in, let the dog's out real quick, go put them in the car, and run back in real quick to make sure all the lights are off and everything is locked up... all I can think about is how wonderful that bed is gonna feel in about 15 minutes... I go out to the garage... so sleepy... head around the back of the car towards the driver's door... my dog's are both very hyper (understandably, mommy has been gone *all evening*, that bad mommy), and they are jumping over the front seat to the back of the car... as I'm rounding the corner to the driver's door, one of them (I'm convinced it was Bailey, she is my more retarded... sorry... my more special needs... puppy) jumps towards the glass and SOMEHOW manages to click the lock/unlock button in my trunk... I hear the unmistakable 'click' noise and the next 5 seconds become slow motion replay, because my mind went to about a thousand places during that time... something like... WTF?!?!... You've GOT to be kidding me... Did she click the 'lock' or 'unlock' button... oh plllllllease let her have clicked the unlock button... nice, my keys are IN my car... with my purse... and my wallet... and my cell phone... and it's almost 5 in the morning... and I have to be on call in 3 hours... and all I wanna do is curl up and go to sleep RIGHT now... of course I did allow myself to believe, for that brief, flickering moment, that she stepped on the 'unlock' button... and very quickly as I pulled on the handle to the trunk... I was reminded that luck is NEVER that kind to me, and fate has somehow picked my name out of the hat as the poster child for cruel irony... the handle didn't give... my li'l f*cker (her new name for the past 24 hours) had locked me out of my own friggin' car.
At this point, tired and borderline delirious, my mind switches to what I can only describe as the 5 stages of grief... I know - it's a stretch people, but work with me, ok??
Stage 1: Denial
I think I went through this during the slo-mo replay in my mind as I'm pulling on the handle and realizing what has happened... 'you've gotta be freakin kidding me'... 'this can't possibly be happening to me right now'. My first thought was, 'ok... she clicked it once, she can click it again'... so I spent about 10 minutes trying to coaxe the dogs near the button... during this time they hit just about everything... but... the button.
Stage 2: Anger
It is safe to say that I went completely, 100% psycho for about 10 minutes... I'd bore you with the details of what exactly was uttered during that time, but I'm pretty sure there are some regulations on these blog sites as to what you can and cannot say.. plus there could be children around... but suffice it to say that I *definitely* spent some time in the Anger stage.
Stage 3: Bargaining
So, after I had tried to be nice, and coo my dogs into accidentally jumping on the unlock button; passed through the angry, 'I think it's possible she just might kill something right now' stage, the dogs were (understandably) thoroughly freaked out by my actions, and cowering in one corner of the floorboard, they were NOT interested in assisting me in my unlocking ventures - and I moved on to the bargaining stage. This involved getting treats and putting them up against the glass, in hopes one of them (Bailey) would be dumb, erm... I mean... clever... enough to jump for the treat, and hit the button... nope... mommy was officially nuts, and they weren't moving from their fetal position on the floorboard... more bargaining, ie praying, ensued... oh God, what am I gonna do?? Please help me. Well... my God just happens to have a really good memory (see previous post here for more info), and I am convinced he was choosing to punish me for breaking my word all those... days... ago. Devine intervention was NOT going to be stepping in this time.
Stage 4: Depression
I don't know that I could call it 'depression'... we are just talking about a car here, after all... but certainly much crying came about next. I had tried to unlock the truck with all sorts of various objects... a razor, a screwdriver, a nail... all to no avail... and now I was standing there with a hammer in hand, trying to decide which window would be the least expensive to replace. I literally had the hammer in full on swing position, ready to smash the window... and I just... couldn't... do it. I know I talk a lot of sh!t about my car, but I love it. I wish it didn't cost me almost $60 bucks to fill up now that gas is up to $3.19 a daggum gallon... and I wish I could afford to trade it in for a super-cute vw bug... but in reality, my car is my baby. It's the first major thing that I paid for all by my wittle self, and it my not be much, but it's mine. It's been a really good automobile for the past 5+ years, and I just couldn't bring myself to smashing out it's window... that, and the fact that I have no idea how I think I'm gonna afford to replace it and I don't want to drive around with a ghetto-fied vehicle until I do, but mostly the part about loving my car and all that.
Stage 5: Acceptance
So I was now full-on delirious... I had screamed, cursed, thrown a fit, prayed, cried... and now I was reaching acceptance phase. Clearly I'm going to get less-than-minimal sleep tonight, and most likely my a$$ will not be clocking in at 8am on-the-dot. It's about 6 now, I go back inside, peep out my front door in hopes that my neighbor across the street (the locksmith, aka 'my saving grace who has broken into my house for me on 2 occasions when other people... i said *other people* (cough *Dad* cough cough *Ex-boyfriend* cough) accidentally locked me out of my house... speaking of which, i really do need to get a house key made someday, that guy might not live there forever... stop digressing... don't tell me what to do... ha ha i'm arguing with myself in the middle of my own post... ok just kiddin' trying to freak you out... seriously, i'm not crazy... ok back to the locksmith... there was no stirring coming about from across the street... duh, i mean only an idiot would be awake at 6am ON A HOLIDAY! So I decide to take a short catnap and wait till around 8... hopefully they will be up, or at least someone in the neighborhood who can let me borrow there phone (2nd time in my life I have regretted not coughing up the extra dough for a land line)... I set the alarm for 30 minutes, it was about 70ish degrees Sunday night... Monday morning... com si com sa... but I didn't want to risk the doggies overheating in the car... so every thirty minutes for the next two hours the alarm woke me up and I went and check on them... obviously... there was not much sleeping going on... except for the dogs, they were totally cool with being curled up on the passenger seat in their nice warm 'bed'... so 8 o' clock roles around, still no stirring in the neighborhood as best as i can tell... so i figure i've gotta do something... i go out to the car one last time, to see if fate will give me a dang break and smile on me this morning... i wake up the dogs... so peaceful, must be nice... and try th ol' 'hey let's try to jump on the button' routine... Belle is still mad at/scared of me from the night before and she keeps sneaking to whatever part of the car i'm NOT near... Bailey on the other hand (good ol' Bailey), had completely forgotten about last nights escapades and wants nothing more than some attention from mommy. She's pouncing everywhere but... you got it... the button... so I coaxe her to the back of the car, hoping we'll have more luck with the trunk (devil) lock. She's seriously going wild, and I allow myself to think this just may work this time... after about a minute of frantic-ness, she jumps on the lock... Oh happy day... I'm about to burst into cheer... until I reach for the handle and realize she's just clicked the lock button again... damn you lock button... you go to hell, you go to hell and you die... no, not going to freak out again... breath... breath... let's try this again... more coaxing... maybe 30 seconds... and she hits the button again... I reach for the trunk handle... oh please oh please oh please oh please oh please oh please... the trunk window opens... HALLELUJAH!!!... the angels sing... nope, that's not the angels... that's the car alarm going off... my car is so smart, it thinks a burglar is trying to... burgle it, and it's gone into 'get the heck away from me you grubby thief' mode (my car doesn't believe in swearing, says it's a bad habit)... i jump, the dogs jump, i go into panic mode... how the heck do i turn this thing off... um um um um um um um... think Megan, think... how can you tell your smart li'l car that you are not a burglar, you are just a silly Megan who has locked herself out of her car (via special needs pet)?? Ummmmm... turn the key in the ignition?? Sounds good to me... I try it, and it works... WOO WOO!!! I invent a new version of the 'happy Megan dance' (i'll show it to you sometime, if you're lucky)... close up the trunk... and haul buns to my parents... I had half a mind to say, ummm screw being on call, i'm going to bed... but my luck would be some crazy crap would happen that i was supposed to handle, and i'm just not all about dealing with the fit hitting the shan... I get to my parents about 8:45... log on... check my email... blah blah blah, it was uneventful... you heard the good part of the story, why are you still reading?? Oh, probably because i am still typing, huh... ok then i will stop ty
So, fun weekend... blah blah blah... let's fast forward to Sunday night. Me and a friend decided to go out to Dallas to this bar called The Absinthe Lounge to partake in a bit of karaoke. Had a fun time, 2:00 rolls around, we were both hungry and not sleepy, so we decided to do what any respectable girls in our situation would do... we went to Denny's. Why is it that all food just tastes freakin' 100 times better at 2am?? Digressing already, I'll try not to do it again... So we eat, go back to her place to pick up my gas hog... non vw convertible... SUV... and by the time I get home it's around 4:30ish. I was on call Monday morning (you'd know this if you read my post yesterday), and since my casa does not currently support internet access (I say why pay for something you can get for free at work, tee hee hee), I planned to spend the night at my parents and work from there in the morning. So my plan was to pick up Belle and Bailey (the puppies, ie 'the poopies'), and head over to my parent's to sleep for about 3 hours before I had to get up to be on call at 8am. I go in, let the dog's out real quick, go put them in the car, and run back in real quick to make sure all the lights are off and everything is locked up... all I can think about is how wonderful that bed is gonna feel in about 15 minutes... I go out to the garage... so sleepy... head around the back of the car towards the driver's door... my dog's are both very hyper (understandably, mommy has been gone *all evening*, that bad mommy), and they are jumping over the front seat to the back of the car... as I'm rounding the corner to the driver's door, one of them (I'm convinced it was Bailey, she is my more retarded... sorry... my more special needs... puppy) jumps towards the glass and SOMEHOW manages to click the lock/unlock button in my trunk... I hear the unmistakable 'click' noise and the next 5 seconds become slow motion replay, because my mind went to about a thousand places during that time... something like... WTF?!?!... You've GOT to be kidding me... Did she click the 'lock' or 'unlock' button... oh plllllllease let her have clicked the unlock button... nice, my keys are IN my car... with my purse... and my wallet... and my cell phone... and it's almost 5 in the morning... and I have to be on call in 3 hours... and all I wanna do is curl up and go to sleep RIGHT now... of course I did allow myself to believe, for that brief, flickering moment, that she stepped on the 'unlock' button... and very quickly as I pulled on the handle to the trunk... I was reminded that luck is NEVER that kind to me, and fate has somehow picked my name out of the hat as the poster child for cruel irony... the handle didn't give... my li'l f*cker (her new name for the past 24 hours) had locked me out of my own friggin' car.
At this point, tired and borderline delirious, my mind switches to what I can only describe as the 5 stages of grief... I know - it's a stretch people, but work with me, ok??
Stage 1: Denial
I think I went through this during the slo-mo replay in my mind as I'm pulling on the handle and realizing what has happened... 'you've gotta be freakin kidding me'... 'this can't possibly be happening to me right now'. My first thought was, 'ok... she clicked it once, she can click it again'... so I spent about 10 minutes trying to coaxe the dogs near the button... during this time they hit just about everything... but... the button.
Stage 2: Anger
It is safe to say that I went completely, 100% psycho for about 10 minutes... I'd bore you with the details of what exactly was uttered during that time, but I'm pretty sure there are some regulations on these blog sites as to what you can and cannot say.. plus there could be children around... but suffice it to say that I *definitely* spent some time in the Anger stage.
Stage 3: Bargaining
So, after I had tried to be nice, and coo my dogs into accidentally jumping on the unlock button; passed through the angry, 'I think it's possible she just might kill something right now' stage, the dogs were (understandably) thoroughly freaked out by my actions, and cowering in one corner of the floorboard, they were NOT interested in assisting me in my unlocking ventures - and I moved on to the bargaining stage. This involved getting treats and putting them up against the glass, in hopes one of them (Bailey) would be dumb, erm... I mean... clever... enough to jump for the treat, and hit the button... nope... mommy was officially nuts, and they weren't moving from their fetal position on the floorboard... more bargaining, ie praying, ensued... oh God, what am I gonna do?? Please help me. Well... my God just happens to have a really good memory (see previous post here for more info), and I am convinced he was choosing to punish me for breaking my word all those... days... ago. Devine intervention was NOT going to be stepping in this time.
Stage 4: Depression
I don't know that I could call it 'depression'... we are just talking about a car here, after all... but certainly much crying came about next. I had tried to unlock the truck with all sorts of various objects... a razor, a screwdriver, a nail... all to no avail... and now I was standing there with a hammer in hand, trying to decide which window would be the least expensive to replace. I literally had the hammer in full on swing position, ready to smash the window... and I just... couldn't... do it. I know I talk a lot of sh!t about my car, but I love it. I wish it didn't cost me almost $60 bucks to fill up now that gas is up to $3.19 a daggum gallon... and I wish I could afford to trade it in for a super-cute vw bug... but in reality, my car is my baby. It's the first major thing that I paid for all by my wittle self, and it my not be much, but it's mine. It's been a really good automobile for the past 5+ years, and I just couldn't bring myself to smashing out it's window... that, and the fact that I have no idea how I think I'm gonna afford to replace it and I don't want to drive around with a ghetto-fied vehicle until I do, but mostly the part about loving my car and all that.
Stage 5: Acceptance
So I was now full-on delirious... I had screamed, cursed, thrown a fit, prayed, cried... and now I was reaching acceptance phase. Clearly I'm going to get less-than-minimal sleep tonight, and most likely my a$$ will not be clocking in at 8am on-the-dot. It's about 6 now, I go back inside, peep out my front door in hopes that my neighbor across the street (the locksmith, aka 'my saving grace who has broken into my house for me on 2 occasions when other people... i said *other people* (cough *Dad* cough cough *Ex-boyfriend* cough) accidentally locked me out of my house... speaking of which, i really do need to get a house key made someday, that guy might not live there forever... stop digressing... don't tell me what to do... ha ha i'm arguing with myself in the middle of my own post... ok just kiddin' trying to freak you out... seriously, i'm not crazy... ok back to the locksmith... there was no stirring coming about from across the street... duh, i mean only an idiot would be awake at 6am ON A HOLIDAY! So I decide to take a short catnap and wait till around 8... hopefully they will be up, or at least someone in the neighborhood who can let me borrow there phone (2nd time in my life I have regretted not coughing up the extra dough for a land line)... I set the alarm for 30 minutes, it was about 70ish degrees Sunday night... Monday morning... com si com sa... but I didn't want to risk the doggies overheating in the car... so every thirty minutes for the next two hours the alarm woke me up and I went and check on them... obviously... there was not much sleeping going on... except for the dogs, they were totally cool with being curled up on the passenger seat in their nice warm 'bed'... so 8 o' clock roles around, still no stirring in the neighborhood as best as i can tell... so i figure i've gotta do something... i go out to the car one last time, to see if fate will give me a dang break and smile on me this morning... i wake up the dogs... so peaceful, must be nice... and try th ol' 'hey let's try to jump on the button' routine... Belle is still mad at/scared of me from the night before and she keeps sneaking to whatever part of the car i'm NOT near... Bailey on the other hand (good ol' Bailey), had completely forgotten about last nights escapades and wants nothing more than some attention from mommy. She's pouncing everywhere but... you got it... the button... so I coaxe her to the back of the car, hoping we'll have more luck with the trunk (devil) lock. She's seriously going wild, and I allow myself to think this just may work this time... after about a minute of frantic-ness, she jumps on the lock... Oh happy day... I'm about to burst into cheer... until I reach for the handle and realize she's just clicked the lock button again... damn you lock button... you go to hell, you go to hell and you die... no, not going to freak out again... breath... breath... let's try this again... more coaxing... maybe 30 seconds... and she hits the button again... I reach for the trunk handle... oh please oh please oh please oh please oh please oh please... the trunk window opens... HALLELUJAH!!!... the angels sing... nope, that's not the angels... that's the car alarm going off... my car is so smart, it thinks a burglar is trying to... burgle it, and it's gone into 'get the heck away from me you grubby thief' mode (my car doesn't believe in swearing, says it's a bad habit)... i jump, the dogs jump, i go into panic mode... how the heck do i turn this thing off... um um um um um um um... think Megan, think... how can you tell your smart li'l car that you are not a burglar, you are just a silly Megan who has locked herself out of her car (via special needs pet)?? Ummmmm... turn the key in the ignition?? Sounds good to me... I try it, and it works... WOO WOO!!! I invent a new version of the 'happy Megan dance' (i'll show it to you sometime, if you're lucky)... close up the trunk... and haul buns to my parents... I had half a mind to say, ummm screw being on call, i'm going to bed... but my luck would be some crazy crap would happen that i was supposed to handle, and i'm just not all about dealing with the fit hitting the shan... I get to my parents about 8:45... log on... check my email... blah blah blah, it was uneventful... you heard the good part of the story, why are you still reading?? Oh, probably because i am still typing, huh... ok then i will stop ty
posted by The Megan @ 9/06/2005 07:27:00 AM
3 Comments:
At Tuesday, September 06, 2005 8:50:00 AM,
The Megan said…
It's all good chica... I have come to accept the fact that I am apparently a glutton for punishment... and I heartily endorse you getting a good laugh out of it! It's easy to laugh about it now, but I was NOT a happy girl at around 4:30 Monday morning!!! =P
At Tuesday, September 06, 2005 9:05:00 AM,
James said…
I've said it before, I'll say it agin, and I'm sure it won't be the last time I say it . . . It could only happen to you, Megan.
Glad it all worked out in the end, though.
At Tuesday, September 13, 2005 9:28:00 PM,
Anonymous said…
OK, so I'm a horrible person because I'm just now getting around to reading this... oh well, deal.
Laughing my cute little bee-hind off at "special needs pet." We should start a club! I think Bailey and Indy need to get together and have "special" parties. I think they'd get along very well.
I do have to say that I feel bad for keeping you out so late...
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