History Always Repeats Itself

When I lived in Tennessee I had a horrible habit of locking myself out of my house. It wasn't my fault - honestly. Let me explain. Over the course of a year I had remodeled my house and had upgraded all of the doorknobs and locks. The beautiful silver locks that I fell in love with ended up being the locks from hell. When the door was locked, you could turn the handle from the inside and it would still turn thus giving you the impression that the door was unlocked. This tripped up myself and my roommate at least 5 times over the course of a year. Whenever I had guests over they would (with good intentions) try to "unlock" the door which in turn would really lock the door and ultimately leave us locked out of the house. Usually when you get locked out you immediately know what has just happened. That sinking realization is the worst feeling in the world.

Well, that feeling returned tonight. I have a lot going on right now with work, stress and planning a vacation - I really think that I'm losing my mind. I was, of course, multitasking grabbing my purse, ipod, and my bags to run errands, locking the door and walking outside all while talking on the phone with Sara M. I was distracted to say the least. Immediately after I shut the door I knew what I had done. I locked myself out of the house. Tonight was the absolute WORST time for this to happen. None of my neighbors are home, nobody else has a copy of the key and I am standing in the dark outside my door looking in. Idiot.

To quickly wrap this up, it was Will to the rescue with the help of a very tall ladder. The bedroom window was cracked and I stood below and watched how easily he was able to gain access to my home. It was kind of an odd feeling, I must admit. Thankfully he could break in otherwise I would probably still be waiting for the locksmith to show up....

This reminded me of the funniest story that I have of locking myself out. A friend of mine had dropped his dog off at my house and somehow I managed to get locked out. I found myself standing on the front steps staring through the glass door at two dogs that were locked inside. Petrified that they were going to tear apart my house, I quickly walked (barefooted) to my friend Roberts house across the street but he wasn't home. His new roommate (whom I had never met) answered the door shirtless with one boot on and one boot off. He was more than happy to help out the damsel in distress and ended up asking me out. I guess that's one way to meet the neighbors!

Oh yeah, and the dogs (Lincoln & Jackson) were both good boys and didn't wreck anything. Thank God.