Not to be outdone...

It was a bright and sunny morning.  The birds were chirping, the flowers were unfurling, and the leaves on the trees were smiling up at the sun as they soaked in the necessary photons for some last fleeting photosynthesis before they shut it down for the winter.

And I was locked out of the garage.

This wouldn't matter if my car wasn't locked in the garage.  But as it turns out, it was, due to my "bright" idea to start parking in the garage, so we didn't have to juggle cars in the morning.

This still wouldn't exactly be a problem if my front door key (also the key to the door on the side of the garage) worked, but we already know (or if you don't, see the previous post) that that's not the case.

My first action was to call Sarah because (1) her key works and (2) she would also have her car, which has a garage door opener.  I suspected she might still be in her morning meeting, but I somehow hoped she would answer anyway.  Nope.

My second action was to call Joe to see if somehow he hadn't driven to work already and could get me and take me to work.  This still wouldn't solve the whole "my car's stuck in my garage" dilemma, but it would delay the consequences of it until later when I needed to drive to photog class.  Unfortunately, Joe was already at work and in the middle of something.  I told him I'd try to call Sarah again.

Since Sarah hadn't answered her cell phone, I tried the switchboard to get her office phone.  At this point, I was informed that Sarah isn't anywhere in the phone directory.  After answering various questions (Does she spell her name differently? -- No; Did she recently get married and change her name? -- Pretty sure she didn't...), I decided that Sarah probably never actually worked there, and only used that job as a front for her real job, so I gave up on that, and tried her cell phone again.

By then, I started eyeing up the small window on the side of the garage.  As I was calling Sarah again, I noticed that the window was open, so as long as I could manage to get the screen out, I might be able to climb in.  I think my message to Sarah might have been something like, "If you get this soon, call me back; otherwise, I'm just going to have to break into the garage through the window."

The screen wasn't all that hard to pop out.  After I pried up a couple of metal tabs, it was basically free.  The harder part was figuring out how to climb over the bushes in front of the window while somehow positioning myself in a way that I could climb into the window without diving headfirst.  Two folding chairs later (one in front of the bush, one shoved through the window and into the garage), and I found myself awkwardly straddling the window pane, trying to figure out how to get enough momentum to propel myself off one chair and onto the other (without slamming my head into the top part of the small window in the process).

Finally I made it through with no damage to myself (other than some wet spots all over my clothes from the bushes and some spider webs in my hair from the window).  After a brief moment of panicking that I hadn't brought my car key with me and my garage door opener was locked in there, I got some common sense (duh!) and remembered that (1) I could now open the door on the side of the garage from the inside or (2) I could just use the wall button to open the main garage door.  I think sometimes after you've just had to climb in through the garage window to get to your car, your brain starts thinking that everything has to be done in weird ways.

So, if my neighbors didn't think I was a burglar the other night, it's quite possible that they do now.  Or they're just really confused about why I choose to climb in through windows rather than walk in through doors.  Of course if they asked, I would just tell them that I'm in training for something, mixed in with subtle references like, "Man, I'm really going to have to improve my time before I head down to Langley" or "I bet those Navy Seals never have to fit through windows that size!"