This post was written by my dear friend, Carina, who just so happens to be the first friend I made when we moved back to Seattle nearly three years ago.
And yes, we are “Carina and Katrina”. When we met back in 2010 we had both just returned to Seattle, were both working from home, and each had tiny little dogs whom we were (and still are) pretty much obsessed with. We also both have blonde hair…you can see how people often get us confused. Basically, we were two girls with nearly identical names living parallel lives that met one night at a Sex and the City themed party that neither one of us realized was also a singles event. I’ll have to tell you rest of that story when I’m back next week — it’s pretty entertaining.
Want more Carina? Check out Trim, her amazing blog!
This past week has kind of sucked. I’ve been sick for the past five days. Like really sick. What first appeared to be the stomach flu has turned into something else of a mysterious viral like situation that prohibits me from venturing farther than 20 feet from a bathroom at any given moment.
This afternoon, I groggily made my way to the office to check in on the little miss. Closing the door behind me so Gatsby wouldn’t barge in, and Louise wouldn’t break out, the knob on my end of the door fell off. This isn’t the first time it’s happened. Actually many knobs on many of our doors fall off. In fact, most doors don’t really close at all in my house (more on that in another post…) This is, however, the first time its happened when I was on the wrong side of the door and home alone.
As I realized that I had just locked myself into the office, panic fell over me and irrational emotion-filled tears promptly followed. Katie wasn’t coming home until nine! I had just gotten off the phone with my go-to personal medical advisor (my mom) who told me I was close to dehydration and if I wasn’t careful, might find myself in the hospital. A vision of me passed out on the floor next to a stitched up cat came to mind. I even briefly considered re-hydrating myself with her bowl of water…. briefly.
Twenty minutes passed and I finally noticed a laptop was in the office (thank goodness we have four computers in the house!) And so began the panic emails. I sent an email to every address that Katie had ever owned begging her to call her parents to drive all the way in from Renton to come let me out… Thirty minutes later when there was no response, it dawned on me that maybe she wasn’t in front of her computer all day like many of us are.
I wondered if any of the doors or windows were open around the house. As this idea began to develop I realized that not only was I not wearing a bra or shoes, but had failed to brush my teeth or shower and probably looked like the walking dead. Since I was more desperate to get out of my captivity, I swallowed my pride (thank goodness this is Tacoma) and popped out the window screen. After tightrope walking along our white picket fence (the office stands over the basement driveway and is therefore nowhere near the ground) I hopped into our lawn and began my reconnaissance of trying to break into the house. It’s times like these when you have an ironic appreciation for how secure your house really is. Without breaking an antique window, there was no way into the home except back through the window I had previously escaped from.
By now a good hour and a half had passed. I was trying not to think about my panic of being locked in the office the rest of the day and set out to get some work done. It was when I finally cleared my head, that ideas for breaking the lock came to mind. I didn’t have any tools with me, but all my sewing supplies are in the office. Using a pair of sewing scissors (super spy style), I fit them into the slot where the knob was supposed to be and miraculously opened the door.
It’s funny, despite my relief for freedom, the quick success of my efforts was a little anticlimactic. Not that I had visions of news coverage, balloons, and welcome camps à la Chilean Miner’s rescue… (and Gatsby was pretty happy to see me out)… it just made me feel a little dumb that the simple solution hadn’t occurred to be two hours prior.
I spent the rest of my afternoon of freedom avoiding the office and drinking plenty of fluids. Though I’m still sick there’s nothing like locking yourself in a room to remind you that it could always be worse.
I can’t help but giggle every time I hear this story. (Sorry, Carina.)
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