I went to bed early last night. (930pm, which is REALLY early for me.)
I got up early this morning. (345am, which is REALLY early for me.)
After getting dressed (happily realizing that a shirt which hasn't fit me since I bought it now does!) I crept downstairs, readied a snack to take to work, ate breakfast and started editing a couple photos.
Well, I got a little carried away and realized suddenly it was time to go, NOW.
So I head out to the car and realize that the sprinklers are going. Right near the driver side door.
I also realize that I don't have the FOB and have to unlock the door with the key.
I can't see the key hole.
My ankles get soaked.
So I get in and realize that the van is out of gas.
Then I realize I don't have my purse (which was left at a BBQ in Seattle over the weekend and I'm getting back later today) so I have to go back in the house and get Brad's debit card.
So I brave the sprinklers again. My ankles get soaked. Again.
I get to the front door.
My set of keys is lacking one for the front door.
So I go back to the van and my ankles get wet.
And open the garage door to get into the house.
You know that light that comes on when you open your garage door?
Our garge doesn't have one.
I trip over the following:
- Something squeeky.
- Something round who's sole purpose in it's existance is to break my wet, wet ankles.
- Something alive, with a tail, who I believe to be of the species feline, genus rightplacewrongtime.
Then I realize that I already borrowed his card last night and it is residing in the leg pocket of my scrub pants (which I wear for my other job).
I have no idea where I took these pants off last night.
These pants are dark blue and I'm trying to find them in the dark, so as to not wake up my hubly.
I wind up having to turn on our bedroom light in order to find them.
They are halfway under my bed UNDER a blanket I haven't used since we moved here.
HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN?!
I get out to the van, drive to the gas station and realize I can't remember my husband's pin number.
But only after trying my own pin number fourteen thousand times getting more and more frustrated with each attempt.
Thank goodness for the credit option.
And that I remember our old zip code.
So I gas up, drive to work and, amazingly, arrive on time.
For the rest of the story here is something you need to know the following: Opening shifts at my job always have one supervisor/manager and one barista and whoever gets there first waits in the parking lot for the second person before going in.
So if you, say, pull into the parking lot at 450am and see not only your manager but another barista, you know one of you has shown up for a shift they aren't working.
We all go in and look at the schedule.
Who shouldn't have woken up at the booty crack of dawn and driven ten minutes to a shift they weren't working?
I'll give you a hint.
She has really, really wet ankles.