Double-O-Braindead

I've been lazing about all day, mostly because I have nothing else to do.  Partially because I can, and partially because I have to go back to the office tomorrow and I'm in mental protest.  The biggest thing I had done before 4pm was going to see Burn After Reading (Fantastic, by the way.  Highly recommended if you like profanity as much as I do.)

So about an hour ago, No Country For Old Men was over (I'm on a Coen Bro's mission, it seems.  And yes, I paid attention the whole way through this time!) and I thought maybe I should put in at least 15 minutes of work so my day didnt feel like a complete waste.  Trash goes out on Sunday nights, and my neighbors upstairs only drug their dumpster thing to the roadside.  (Even though I always take theirs out for them.  I'm so glad they're leaving.)

I must have left my brain on the couch.  On my way out to the trash cans, I did the ol' flick of the wrist which leads to my door handle being locked.  Its habit.  Not a bad habit, but an annoying one when you don't plan on getting in the car and driving away.  I trotted my happy self over to the garbage area, and plopped my kitchen trash inside, and proceeded to drag my can, and the two remaining cans for apartments 3 & 4 to the roadside.  Then the recycling buckets.  Someone put loose paper in the recycling buckets.  The recycling instructions clearly state that paper has to be bundled.  AND its raining, so after the truck comes tomorrow and does not take the paper, it'll be left in there, soggy and stuck to the bottom of the bucket like some sort of hobo paper-mache art project...  It's probably apartment 2.  I'll assume they never learned to read.  Neither one of them.

At this point, I'm slightly annoyed and have trashy wet hands, and the bleak remaining daylight is starting to cause a headache.  I scuttled like a cockroach across the gravel, ready to retire to my dimly-lit and neutral smelling home, wash my hands and plop back on the couch.  

Click.  ...Click click click click!  The sound of me turning my door handle and me realizing its locked, and that I am keyless, but thinking that added attempts will alter reality.  Clearly, I'm no clairvoyant or magician, and the door was definitely locked.  

Years of watching MacGyver and playing "The Worst Case Scenario Survival Game" flashed before my eyes.  Unfortunately, I didnt have any duct tape, or a potato, or a bright yellow cue card with multiple choice answers.  What I did have was two rained-upon flimsy plastic cafe' chairs I got for like $5 each, and a new pair of Sauconys on my feets.  Bad news:  I'm wearing a skirt.  More bad news?  In addition to that skirt, I'm wearing a hoodie.  And of course, my brand new Sauconys.  Thats it.  Thats it.  Ahem.  

I wondered if the people driving by would think I was trying to break into my own apartment and call the policia on me?  I'm praying for Bystander Syndrome and an unlocked window as I walk to check the lowest frame on my house.  SWEET merciful Baby Jesus, the window behind my TV was unlocked.  I hoisted the screen, the sill, and fumbled for the cord for the blinds to open them.  God forbit I muss the blinds.  OK, so the scene is set, now I just have to get in. Chair in place, I gingerly mount it.  It wobbles.  I regret having eaten the whole thing of Tabouleh last night, but damn was it good.  Left leg up-and-in, I nearly take out my sophisticated audio system that consists of a powerstrip and two hand-me-down speakers, but I make it!  Some man in an Astro Van probably got to see some things he normally has to pay for, but whatever.  I am maverick and accomplished!

I guess I felt so good about what I had just done, and was on an adrenaline high, that I exited through my front door and went outside, back to the window to close it and close the screen.  I didnt realize how idiotic that was until I had finished doing it, and then I felt extremely sorry for my own mental state.  

I couldn't help but laugh.  I am really ready to hit the couch at this point, so I chuckle and go in, I FINALLY get to wash my hands.  I turn and see that my air conditioning units need to come out.  It is late September, afterall.  I figure I'm already up, and already messy from hoisting myself through the window, I might as well get it over with.  First comes removing the 2x4's supporting the units, from the outside...  Three windows away from the one where I just put on that fantastic act of independent woman.  

Out I go.  Locking the door behind me.  Again.  

Thank heavens I was so much of an idiot and went outside to close my window after the first episode, otherwise I would have locked it.  

My stars!  The AC units are taken care of, and the trash is all set for pickup in the morning.  I am FINALLY back on the couch, and couldn't wait to tell you all about my absent-mindedness.  As if you needed more ammo. 

So, the moral of the story is:  Think twice about necessary cast members of your wardrobe when you get dressed in the morning.  Even if it is the weekend.