As with all things in my life...I had yet another weird experience.
I'm beginning to think it's me.
Here's what went down earlier today:
So we are into the new year by 2 days. It's January 2nd and I'm feeling super optimistic.
I haven't messed up all year. Everything is going great. It's going to be a great year.
I get up earlier today than I planned. (That never happens.) And I was chipper (also never happens.)
As I was getting ready to head out the door for my first appointment of the day: I remembered I needed to mail something.
I wasn't too sure where the outgoing mailbox was. We have recently moved into our new place...and so far, I have not needed to mail anything.
I figured the outgoing mailbox was next to the other mailboxes. Obviously.
So I go upstairs to mail my letter. But, because I'm a planner I bring a shoe.
The reason I bring a shoe is because I do not have a key to the door to the mailboxes. So in order to not get locked out...I need to always prop it open. (This is an issue with the property management company that we rented our place from. I'm not happy about it. But because I'm a team player, I just always bring a shoe or something to prop the door open.)
At any rate, there is no outgoing mailbox. I think, "Oh well, I tried. I will just mail it later today." I then go back down into the basement entrance to our townhouse.
Only, I forgot one thing.
I forgot that our door locks on its own. Usually, I have my purse/keys with me so it's not a problem.
Not this time.
This time all I had with me was: ONE shoe and a letter.
Panic struck.
It's 25 degrees out, and I'm locked out.
I think quickly and decide to try another entrance.
Again, I prop the door open with my shoe.
And because I have awesome luck: The other door was also locked.
I go back down into the basement.
I have nothing with me but a shoe and a letter.
No coat, no phone, no keys...Nothing.
Perfect.
My instinct kicks in. And I go into full-MacGuyver-mode.
I realize that I might be locked out for a while. When this occurred it was 8:30 in the morning. My life partner was not due to return home until 6:30 pm. That meant, most likely, I would be trapped in the basement for 10 hours.
And the basement is not heated. Outside it was 25 degrees.
I knew that I had to find something warm or I might be in a tricky situation in a couple of hours.
Instantly I decide that I need to keep my body temperature up. I decide that every hour I would either run in place or do some push ups.
I think: "Hey! At least I'll get a killer workout today!" (Seriously, these are my actual thoughts. I'm irrationally optimistic at times and this was no exception.)
But since I knew I couldn't do push ups for 10 straight hours, I decided I needed to find something to cuddle up with.
The only thing down in the basement of our building are storage units.
But only a small animal or child could possibly crawl underneath the door of the units.
OR A WEIRDO THAT HAS SEEN EVERY EPISODE OF MACGYVER!
I decided I could do it.
I knew that if I got caught halfway through, I'd really be stuck. Like, literally.
I get on my back. Think: doing the limbo, but all the way on the ground. I reverse commando crawl underneath the door to our storage unit.
As I'm crawling underneath, I realize that if I wasn't careful...a box could fall on top of me and knock me out.
And at 6:30 tonight, all my partner would find is me halfway under our storage unit. With a head injury.
Because I was halfway, I either had to go all the way...or quit and back out.
AND I'M NOT A QUITTER.
I started to think about all of those made for TV movies about people that were trapped in the wilderness...and the things that they did to stay alive.
I've always told my friends and family that yes, if it came down to it...I'd be the last person standing. I'd figure a way out.
I'm no pansy...so I went for it and upside-down-limbo/commando-crawled it into the storage unit.
Once inside the storage unit, I again panic.
Our storage unit is packed. You couldn't add another box in there if you tried. I couldn't move.
I started looking inside boxes for something warm. I find: a Chicago Bears over-sized sweatshirt my brother gave me years ago, another random sweatshirt, and some towels.
While inside the storage unit I realize something else: I'm probably going to have to urinate sometime during the day. I should grab something just in case.
I started looking around for something I could craft into a makeshift port-a-potty.
I found a box and grabbed it. As I grabbed it I just shook my head and thought: "This is what my life has come to? I'm picking out boxes to pee into.into. HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
As I'm trying to make my way out of the storage closet, I realize I'm going to get super bored and needed something to pass the time.
I start digging around for something to read. And happened upon a box of journals that I've collected over the years.
I've always written. Obviously, not well. But still, I write.
I grab a stack of journals and throw them over the storage unit wall. And once again, I get on my back and limbo it out of there.
I propped myself up against my back door. More optimistic now that I had a sweatshirt, towels, a "toilet", and some literature.
And I do what I've always have done: I read.
I read my own journals. I started with a journal I started my senior year of high school.
Oh man, it was HIGHLY entertaining. I was a real piece of work.
Several hours pass. I laugh aloud. I am introspective. At times, I want to cry.
In the end, I decided I needed to write a "reflection" of what I just read.
"Reflections" are something that are done a lot in the world of counseling. It's a way for someone to process what they have just learned/read/or wrote.
Halfway through my reflection, I hear a sound.
IT WAS PEOPLE!!
Two guys make their way down the stairs.
They were the maintenance men there to cut the locks off of some of the storage unit.
They descended down the stairs as I was "reflecting" in mid-sentence. I had no time to prepare myself.
What they found was a half frozen weirdo in a gigantic Chicago Bears sweatshirt, covered in towels. With a pee box. And surrounded by stacks of journals.
I realize that I look like a homeless person and that my new goal was to try and convince these guys that I actually lived in the building and wasn't just camping out for the day.
I asked if they happened to have a key. They didn't.
But what they did have: street smarts.
One of the guys had a credit card. And was able to break into my place.
Before he let me in he said to me: "Are you SURE you live here??"
I must have looked like a convincing hobo.
I re-assured him that yes, I did in fact live there.
Once inside, I let out a sigh of relief.
All in all, the whole ordeal was over in three hours.
It took me another hour to de-thaw and to return all of the voicemails/texts/emails from concerned individuals.
It was a weird start to 2013.
But, as with all weird things that have happened in my life I learned a couple of things:
I learned that I really miss writing. And I need to do it more. If not for anyone, but myself.
I also learned that I have no shame. Evidence: me sharing the fact with you that I located a box to urinate in. I could have left this part out. But, no. I decided to share.
My life has been a series of one weird event after another. And because the common denominator in all weird related events is: ME...I'm just going to have to learn to embrace it.
As this was all going on today, I kept thinking to myself: "Wow, I can't believe this hasn't happened to me before?!"
I'm a fan of learning from mistakes. And never again will I leave my place without my keys and my phone.
Also, to be honest with you: I'm a little sad that I didn't get to pee in that box. That would have made a killer story.
As Always, Sharing my Life with You,
Miss Oakley
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