I Blame The Garbage Man

Yesterday morning was really quite crazy. There is just no other way to describe it. Let me give you a rundown of what I'm talking about.

So, I got up and started getting ready for the day. It was 8:00AM and I was still in my pj's and I decide to check my email and catch up on my google reader. All of a sudden I hear the garbage truck down the street. I run outside to roll out our garbage cans...because of course we didn't do it the night before. That would mean being more organized.

Then I attempt to go back into my house through the garage door. Yup. I said attempt. The garage door was locked. We don't usually lock our garage door, so this has never happened before. So, I circle the house, and there isn't a single open window so I could break in. Crap. Mark's gone already. He had a meeting with his boss so I can't call him to come home and let me in. So, I head over to the neighbor's (in my pj's) to borrow their phone to call a locksmith. That was fun...especially the part where I had to admit we didn't have a spare key out in the garage. Our spare keys are in a drawer in our kitchen. Makes a lot of sense, right?

The locksmith finally arrives. I'm thinking he's a pro....it'll take him 30 seconds and he'll have me back in my house. Not so much.

He can't pick the locks on any of our doors.

Perfect.

My house cannot be broken in to.

That was the good news and the bad news.

The locksmith had to take apart the lock on our man door in the garage and use that to create a new key. He had some fancy contraption in his van and 20 minutes later he's got a key that finally worked to get me into the house.

Now it's 9:17 AM.

I have to leave for work at 9:25 in order to get there on time.

Awesome.

I blamed it all on the garbage man.

Until Mark got home and I was telling him this.

He locked the door.