Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Bad luck or what???




So I leave a work meeting, proud of myself for participating in a University-wide committee, expanding my sphere of influence (ha ha). I step outside of the building, car keys in my right hand, thinking I'm looking pretty good in my new work duds. Out of nowhere, I trip. I don't just TRIP, though; instead, I fall HARD on my left ankle and side, hear a crunch in my right ankle, purse flies in one direction, one of my shoes flies in another, I hear my keys flying behind me, and even the barrette in my hair flies off.

So I'm sitting in this tangled up heap, doing a body check (no blood, good, did I hit my head, no, is my right ankle OK, NO, can I stand up, not yet), and literally seeing stars. I finally gather my wits, get myself to my feet, find I can't bear weight on my right foot, gimp around collecting my shoe, my barrette, my purse, my keys . . . wait a minute . . . where are my keys???

I spent >30 minutes looking for my keys. No luck. I call my office, beg a ride back to the office. Wait for another 20 minutes with a throbbing ankle and in a panic because I have no keys.

From my office, rent a car (rental office is two blocks from me), HOBBLE to the car rental office, get my nifty little Kia (if you were at all tempted, DON'T buy one). Drive home to get another key to my apartment. The mgmt office "loans" me a master key with a big old tag on it, so I have to go make a copy. I wait >20 minutes to get a key cut, while the lady in front of me ponders color and design choices (IT'S A FRIGGIN' KEY, LADY!!!), then decides to have additional keys made. I'm now nauseas from the pain in my ankle/foot, and in dire need of a wash room. I finally get my turn . . . and the guy can't make the key, because of the freaking tag. I'm near tears, tired, in pain, feeling new pains arising in my other foot and in my hip and back. Go back to my apt complex, they'll make a copy for $25 (!!!!), but "the guy" is doing something else right now, so I'll have to wait. Now I'm also livid, tears start in anger and frustration, the oh so kind (NOT) receptionist says she'll let me go open my door with the key if I bring it right back. Good to know what I'm paying more than $1,000/month for, eh?

The Kia was supposed to be back by 5pm for the special hourly rate. It's now 4pm. I fell at 11:30. Do the math. I'm pretty sure at this point that I've broken something in my foot and I have yet to elevate it, put ice on it, take something for the pain. Getting to the 3rd floor of my building (NO elevators!) reminded me of the time I hiked >10 miles with strep throat and a foot so blistered that when I took my hiking boot off, all the skin from my toes and heel came off with it. Neat, huh? In other words, sheer will power despite the pain. And then to get that key back to them, and get back up the stairs again . . . I'll probably have nightmares about that for a long time.

So I get it, thank god, my own bathroom, thank god, get these clothes off, and get those shoes off. Foot's nicely swollen. Elevate. Ice. Motrin. Found back up car keys, but I can't go get my car, because I can't lock my front door.

At 6pm, when the mgmt office closes, that bratty little receptionist calls to tell me my key's ready and to pick it up from the security office, she's closing. I'll bet a million dollars my key was ready in 20 minutes.

By this time, I've already embraced the situation, rather than continue railing.

This morning, my foot is MUCH better, I drop off the Kia, one of my staff offers to take me to my car at 4pm. I can't walk too far with my foot wrapped up and with a limp and pain, so I cancel some meetings that would have required me to walk.

Once I FINALLY get my car, which I could have hugged and kissed, I felt like everything was OK.

I guess the moral of this story is to have a back up set of keys in your office. And now I do.


2 comments:

glass hole studios said...

go to the doctor.............
lob

michelgibson83479683 said...
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