Murphy’s Law

I get out of work yesterday about twenty minutes late. No big deal, it happens. A little behind schedule for the evening, but again…I can manage. Indi’s over @ Nikki and Brad’s and asked me to go home, get steaks, and bring them over for grilling purposes. I make the thirty minute drive home and realize:

I have no house key and no garage door opener.

I think for a moment. I call my Mom, no answer. I call Indi’s Mom, and success! They have a spare house key. I get it (they live four houses away) and come back. The steaks are leaking a bit, so I bag ’em and gather stuffs. Cokes, steaks, movies (Open Range and 3:10 to Yuma. I’ve been trying to watch Open Range with Brad for like a year and a half.), helmet, jacket, all is well. I leave the house, put all the stuff on my bike, and realize…

I do not have my bike key.

Or the spare house key.

Yup, door’s locked.


I think again…and try to call Indi to apprise her of the situation. Call Failed. What? Try again. Call Failed. Curses. I power cycle my Blackberry, which takes twelve years. I suddenly remember that a bedroom window was open last night and, perhaps, it’s unlocked. I walk around back and, indeed, it’s unlocked. Using three quarters (Montana, Utah, and Indiana) and twenty minutes of time, I jimmy the screen off and open the window.

The cat stares at me as I pour myself into the bedroom. No matter. I close/lock the window, get the keys, and walk back out front. My phone is back on and it’s ringing. Indi tells me not to bring the steaks, as something has come up.

Nobody’s fault, it was the natural succession of the universe at that point.

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