So, there I am, on my way to supper with some friends after work, and I decide I need to stop at home first to freshen up. It’s cold out. Like, really fucking cold out. The house has shifted so the outside doors are difficult to close properly, and you have to make sure the latch catches. If it doesn’t, it very easily gets caught in any wind and bangs on the railing. Remember when I said it was really fucking cold out? Well, it was so cold that when I pulled, the handle for the door snapped right off! But not until the door had actually latched! Perfect. I stared at it for a few seconds and then went in to change and get ready. I go to leave and realize, I can’t open this goddamn door! I try to jimmy it open for several minutes. I open the window over the screen to see if maybe there’s a hole I could put my arm through and open it from the outside. Nope. But hey, I have two doors. So I decide to try the back door. The problem is, I was in Jamaica for a week in January and the snow really piled up. I managed to squeeze through the door and lock it behind me. Then I go to the gate. It won’t swing open so I start clearing the snow away with my feet. I was not wearing proper snow clearing attire and my feet got cold very quickly. Did I mention it was really fucking cold?! I get all the snow cleared only to find a chunk of ice preventing the gate from opening! Shit! Now what?
I bet you’re thinking to yourself, “If that was me, I’d just climb over the gate.” Great minds think alike! And fools’ seldom differ. The front gate is relatively low, and I’m tall. Shouldn’t be much of a problem. Or so I thought. It’s a tapering gate, low on one side, and gradually gets higher. I manage to get one leg swung over the lowest part of the gate, after “carefully” measuring it’s height against my legs. Turns out, the gate is a few inches too high once I get my leg over. So now I’m stuck! I have one leg over, dangling a few inches above the ground, the other leg planted firmly on the ground, and my crotch wondering if it’s going to survive this delicate balance. It’s around this time that the neighbour’s back door motion light turns on. I freeze. I mean, I’m already fucking freezing, but now I still my movements. I’m torn between hoping they come out and can help me by opening the front door or pulling me over the gate, and more desperately hoping they stay the fuck inside. They don’t come out. I make the decision to pull my leg back over the gate. Except it’s much harder to get my leg back than it was to put it over. My boot is caught and my foot starts to cramp. WTF?!? I finally manage to get my leg back and trudge back through the snow to the back door, squeeze through the opening, and go back inside.
I grab a knife and head for the front door. I struggle for a minute or two before realizing the very simple solution is just to wedge the knife in between the door and the latch and boom! Open door. I couldn’t have figured this out a half hour before?!
Since I’m already writing about my own brilliance, I’ll tell you that I have been paying the wrong accounts for two of my utility bills for the past 8 months, ever since I moved in. Only after receiving disconnection notices from energy and power did I figure this out. Smrt.