Fuck this day, let me tell you. As if things weren't annoying and stressful enough in my life, on the way to class this morning (at 7 AM), I rear-ended a car at a light - mostly my fault, although the light was green and the cars were moving and then just as suddenly stopped moving, because the crossing guard around the corner stopped it.
Then - after waiting for the police and all that, my car wouldn't start, so I needed Yesenia to come with cables and give me a jump.
Then, when the mail came, yet another bill from a doctor who did emergency surgery on Yesenia's hand (kitchen knife accident) for around $2000 turned up, despite the fact that supposedly, yet again, the insurance took care of all that.
Then Yesenia called and said that the other doctor claimed we didn't send our October payment.
Then, for the final insult, I went out to rake. I did this because the leaves were kind of, sort of, but not really at all dry enough to rake, but it's getting very close to when the town comes to clear them, and I want them gone. Normally, when I do yardwork, I bring my cell phone with me, but about 20 minutes earlier it coughed out a 'low battery' warning, so it was inside charging. I also did not bring my keys, since I was only in the backyard.
The lack of phone and keys are important to this story.
After about 90 minutes, I'd cleared most of the smallish back and largish side yard. My preferred method is rake>pile>tarp>drag>curb, so I spent at least 2/3 of that time in sight of the front door. Eventually, it grew dim enough that it was time to call it, so I folded up the tarp, dropped the tarp and rake on the porch with the hopes that I might have the time to finish up the other side and front touch-up tomorrow. Then I failed to open the front door because it was locked.
Oho. The renter (Christian) had gone out during one of my times away from the front door, and quite thoughtfully locked the damn thing. As an example of how brain-fried I was by this point, I briefly contemplated which window to break in to (as I frequently did as a teen, when I did not have a house key for reasons unknown to me, since I was technically a latchkey kid). Then I thought better of that, and decided to use the neighbors phone to call Yesenia. Then I thought better of that and decided to run over (quite literally running, at this point) to my mother's house up the road, ostensibly to use her phone to call Yesenia.
Then it occurred to me that my mother actually has a key to our house. And by some small miracle, she was home. So I borrowed the key, a cup of diet ginger ale and a Hershey's Bliss dark chocolate, and went home to have a good cry.