fuckfuckfuckityfuck

i normally wouldn't use such coarse language on one of my blogs, but i'm having a genuinely shitty day. i woke up for my run this morning full of positiveness and energy. i got dressed quickly, drank some water, got the headphones and hat on and stepped out the door. and locked it. shit. some background on where i live: i live in maine. Bar Harbor Maine. the winter occupants of Bar Harbor are 4 guys wearing flannel, 12 moose and me. people here don't lock their doors. people leave their cars unlocked and running at the grocery store. well, everyone but me. i'm not from here. where i'm from my mother's car got broken in to repeatedly in our own driveway. i lock my car doors, my apartment doors, any lock i come into contact with is turned to secure. (i should note here that i have locked my keys in the car more times than i can remember. my boyfriend, who incidentally drives a car given to him with 300,000 miles on it, has never had this problem. why, because he had never locked a door in his life...until he met me.)

so, yeah, i slam the door after turning the little locking knob thing and instantaneously i know i have locked myself out of the house.

option #1. use memorized calling card to call boyfriend to come with his key, but wait i don't know his phone number so that choice is really go into scary general store where the counter staff have no teeth (but the food is highly recommended....uhm...no) ask for their phone book, proceed to pay phone and then use hopefully working calling card to call boyfriend and tell him i'm a moron.

option #2. ask upstairs neighbor if he happens to have a key to my apartment. and look like a moron, but in the eyes of a stranger.

option #3. really earn the moron status and attempt to break in through one of the windows.

guess which one i chose? generally i'll chose being a moron all on my own to being a moron in company, so i went to the back of the house (lest the toothless executive chefs next door see how easy it is to break into my house) and choose a window. kitchen or bedroom? i chose the bedroom because the cat was meowing at me from the other side of the glass in the kitchen and i REALLY didn't want an audience. meow.
i got the glass up with no problem, but the screen...well...the screen is dead. i killed it more out of frustration that actual need, but i was at the end of my rapidly fraying rope. it had to be done.

so there were a few moments of glory in my success, until i left for work and realized that the kitchen door had been unlocked all night and thus there was no need for me to kill the screen and risk my security deposit at all. HA. isn't irony funny? HILARIOUS. i might have to kill another screen when i get home. just for the release. ARGH!