The Obligatory One-Of-Those-Days Post

Now I know it’s cliched to write about having “one of those days”, but if I had to experience it, you do too. Unless you click a button on your browser, but please don’t.

It started this morning when I went to get the mail from the letterbox. For some unknown reason I instinctively locked the front door as I walked out, locking myself out. I went around the back hoping another door I had used that morning was open, but alas I had locked that too. My only option was to climb onto the second story and hope to find a door open. I pulled out the most dingy, unsafe ladder I could find in the garage. The wood it was made of resembled a deteriorating bridge across a great canyon. The rungs were more like sticks of dowel than planks. I needed to stretch it out to it’s most flimsy to even get close, and I still had to climb onto the very top rung, and hope that I wasn’t going to have a Jimmy Steward in Vertigo moment (or worse, the poor policeman). Gripping on for dear life I finally pulled myself onto the railing and held tight as I slowly edged each bit of my body over. Boy was I glad when the door opened when I finally pulled myself to safety.

After all this I got ready to go to uni, packed my things, and walked to the bus stop. Well, almost. I was about 10 metres away from it when the bus roared past me without stopping.

I had had enough at that point, so I turned around and walked home and didn’t feel guilty at all.