tuesday was my first day on the job. so to speak. my first day in my new job as a manager and supervisor of the division of my office that i’ve worked in for the last 9+ years.
it was pretty much like any other day.
after i’d had enough, i headed out, determined to find a grocery store and equip myself to bring my lunch instead of buy it. you know, now that i’m making more money, i need to be more frugal. you understand.
turkey, cheese, sandwich thins, lettuce, broccoli, and grapes in hand, i headed back to k&k’s home (k&k being aunt and uncle to my beloved ben) and immediately set about washing my produce and separating it into lunch-sized portions.
oh, and i bought some milk and cheerios, too. more money saved, thank you very much.
oh, and during all of that, i was texting my co-worker to solidify plans for going to see a movie the next night.
i was getting it done.
for some reason, i believe it is important to put a paper towel in the baggy (baggie?) with my grapes and lettuce. so i started hunting around the kitchen for the paper towels.
hey, there they were.
and doh, there were only 2 left.
but i’m not a quitter. paper towels were important to the accomplishment of my goal. i knew k&k had more paper towels somewhere. and surely, a newly minted manager of professionals was smart enough to find them.
i headed for the garage and the cabinet that i knew housed the extra toilet paper.
tangent: i find it necessary to tell you that i disarmed the alarm system when i got home and then armed it again and then disarmed it to go into the garage. it’s really not a detail that matters to my story, but at the time i was really proud of myself for remembering to disarm the thing before going into the garage.
blah, blah, blah. i hunted in the toilet paper cabinet and there, on the tippy top shelf, i found several rolls of paper towels.
mission accomplished. i am awesome, i told myself.
isn’t it funny how something so small like making yourself lunch or finding a roll of paper towels can make a person feel so good about herself. guess that tells you a little about how many things i feel like i don’t accomplish at work. but that’s another story for some other blog.
here’s where things get ugly.
you remember how i came through a door to get into the garage? okay, maybe i didn’t mention that door specifically, but you know i went through a door to get into the garage.
well, my friends, there was no going back through that door to return to my lunch prepping duties. there was not. because that cute little door was locked.
can you picture me? still in my work clothes. holding a roll of paper towels. and completely stuck.
i had no key. no phone. no nothing. what was i going to do?
search for the hidden key, that’s what.
k&k are a prepared people, in case you didn’t know. and the toilet paper and paper towel cabinet also had a couple of lanterns. so off i went, lantern in hand, searching high and low in the wet (it had rained the day before) bushes and potted plants around the exterior of the house, praying all the way that i would find the key.
i can tell you that i have real and undeniable experiences that have taught me that prayers are heard and answered.
just not this one.
it was already after 8:30 pm, and i suppose that if i had continued looking, i might have eventually found the key. but probably not (now that i know where it is).
so off i went. down the hill of the driveway and along the darkness that was spring hill rd.
the first house i came to was so fancy that i couldn’t even get to the front door without a code.
house #2 was more promising. i rang the doorbell and tried to look trustworthy enough to be granted phone privileges. apparently, i passed the test because the door answerer handed me the phone and again shut the door.
i’m guessing that his wife was appalled the he had left me out on the front porch because he opened the door again and invited me inside before i’d even had a chance to dial my husband’s phone number.
this is getting so long, huh.
ben gave me k’s number. i called and left a message. then i called ben’s mom to see if she had the number for the other k. no answer. so i called k again.
and glory be, she answered.
i will not now describe the location of the key. it wouldn’t still qualify as “hidden” if i did, now would it. suffice it to say that i had to step in some wet and soggy ivy and leaves before obtaining the holy grail.
i walked back down the road and up the hill and found the key and got back in. and finished prepping my lunches. and heaved a huge sigh of relief that the guy who answered the door wasn’t a serial killer.
so that’s the end of the story.
how did you like it? are you glad it didn’t happen to you? have you been fretting with me as you read it? are you now feeling your shoulders relax because you know i ended up safe and sound?
okay, good. now go back and pretend i told you the story having included the itsy bitsy detail that i was wearing my bare feet when i stepped into the garage and my adventure began. because that’s how it really happened.
changes the whole tone of everything that happened, doesn’t it? everything.