A couple more whacks

So yesterday I locked myself out of the house. The morning went something like this....
sleep sleep sleep, doorbell, one eye open, doorbell again, search for clothes, door bell again, go to door with hair poking in all directions and shirt on backwards, see mail lady driving off, find package at door for disenfranchised roommate that didn't need a signature anyway. Look at clock, time 9:15. The mail lady never runs before 1 pm, except for my days off. I make a point to go out and shake the package in her general direction, she waves and smiles. Back in the house, shake package for a few seconds, bored easily, package to said disenfranchiseds room. Comb hair , brush teeth, turn shirt to right side. Thought bubble, 50 dollar an hour consult fee, consult this morning. Job to follow with luck, skip in step and the day lightens. Gather books , papers , sketch pad ect, out the door with a smile on my face. Door snaps, latched. The jingle jangle of keys is a mis. Smile gone. Books , papers , sketch pad, ect, on the driveway.... Grumble. I walk around the house damning our fine security skills. 2nd thought bubble, the roommate! His window! Behind the 6 foot tall hedges! I am an amazon, I trek off through the jungle. His security skills, lacking, I break in to his room. The branches catch my shorts, my ass is flailing in the wind, I am a warrior. I do a less than graceful fat girl flip onto his bed, rolling to the floor, landing on my head. Later I tell this to another dear friend, and I inspire the birth of another blog. I preceded to tell her about my untimely tumble, and I ended the drama with , "a few more whacks on the head and I'll be retarded!" I linked her, check it out yourself... I'm gonna start selling my one liners.