Oh What a Beautiful Morning, Oh Crap

I awoke peacefully. Daylight peeked into the room from around the edges of the curtain. I felt fully rested, which was wonderful, but strange. I then wondered why the alarm wasn't going off. Had I forgotten to set it? Puzzled, I looked at the clock and realized it wasn't displaying the time. I also noticed the TV wasn't showing the traffic girl. Something was wrong. The power must have gone out during the night.

Worried that I had overslept, I went looking for my watch. It wasn't on the kitchen counter as usual. After some searching, I found it on the den floor. I had apparently been practicing the art of never-putting-anything-back-where-it-belongs the day before. The watch, in its super sized font, confirmed my fears. I was going to be late for work.

Crap, I thought and rushed to the bathroom to shave. I unconsciously flipped on the light switch and then mentally kicked myself for already forgetting about the power. It's amazing how much shorter one's morning routine becomes without electricity. An electric shaver doesn't work so well and neither does a hair dryer. Unshaven and sporting damp hair, I packed my breakfast and lunch and tossed everything into the car.

One other thing that insists on using electricity is the garage door. I walked behind the car, which was parked in the middle of the garage, and pulled down on the red rope to open the door manually. I took a step back, lifted the door four inches off the ground and bumped into the car. I had run out of room.

I lowered the door and contemplated the situation. My dad had always opened the door this way, so I gave it another try, gripping the rope and arching my body around the car. Lift, lower, lift, lower. Each attempt failed pathetically. I wasn't getting enough leverage and couldn't make any progress because of the confounded vehicle.

I stood there, balanced on one foot, both arms extended above my head, holding onto the rope and thinking what a fine mess I was in, but happy no one could witness my ridiculousness. A stray scrap of common sense entered my head and I let go of the rope. A sudden feeling of stupidity came over me. One's intelligence can often be measured by the number of seconds between an act of stupidity and the feeling of stupidity. It's like thunder and lightning, except the more seconds that pass, the dumber you are.

I knelt down, grabbed the bottom of the door with both hands and lifted it slowly. The gray overcast of morning greeted me, as did two landscapers who had been watching the entire time. They were leaning against their truck parked across the street, sipping coffee and likely wondering what was up with my garage. I nodded sheepishly and they nodded good morning before setting down their cups and returning to their watering and raking.

I don't believe Friday the 13th had anything to do with this morning's run of bad luck. I'm not superstitious about anything except, maybe, baseball. I may have to eat a tofu burger to help the home team win every baseball game I attend. I just hope the electricity returns before I get home this evening. The Olympics begin tonight and it would be disappointing to miss the Opening Ceremony. Plus, a second round with the garage door isn't exactly my idea of wholesome Friday night fun.