I was impatiently sitting with my suitcase in my room, sending her Skype messages.
Sara: Are you ready?
Casey: Almost.
S: How almost?
C: Five minutes.
S: That seems like an unreasonable amount of time.
C: To pack a suitcase?
S: If I come help, it'll be two and a half.
C: If you come help, we'll be here another hour.
S: I'm coming over. I'll show you how to stuff everything into your bag without folding it and still be able to zip it without sitting on it. You'll have to carry all your toiletries, though.
C: Can you distract yourself for three minutes please?
S:...I--I can try. I have a funny taste in my mouth. Should I brush my teeth?
C: Yes. Definitely.
I got my toothbrush and my toothpaste, walked out the door, and thought, "I feel so weird walking out of my room without a purse. I wonder why I always bring it with me." I had just pulled the door shut with an echoing click when I remembered, "Oh, right. Because I keep my keys in there."
"NOOO," I said, clinging to my door. But it had locked behind me.
Casey came upon me a few minutes later, plastered between the doorframe.
C:...Sara?
S: Yep.
C: What are you doing?
S: Nothing.
C: Did you lock yourself out?
S: Perhaps.
C: And how many times have you done this now?
S: *holds up four fingers*
C: Yeah. No more. Start locking your door yourself.
See, when this first happened, I complained bitterly that my door locked behind me in an unfixable way, and I was victim to its evil design. Then Casey found the button on the side of the door that lets me lock it myself when I get outside. But this takes an extra four to six seconds of effort on my part. Which is just too much.
Apparently, I'd rather wait for half an hour while a campus security officer finds the keys and lets me in.
If I left the house without my purse I'd feel naked.
ReplyDelete