Adulting Fails

Wednesday, May 13, 2015


One of my favorite books is Adulting: How to Become a Grown-Up in 468 Easy)ish) Steps by Kelly Williams Brown. It's amazing, hysterical, and features diagrams like this:


I like to think that I am pretty good at adulting. Ken and I have a mortgage that we pay on time, I have great credit, we clean the house regularly, and we cook dinner most nights. I floss every night, I take my vitamins, I try not to have dishes in the sink before I go to bed, and I wipe down the counters at the end of the day. However, not every day is a winning day for adulting. Last Friday was one of these days.

I had slept in last Friday morning, and I was rushing on my way to get to a study session at 1:00. I grabbed my bookbag, a sweatshirt, and a banana that I planned to eat in the car on my way to school. I opened the front door, locked the bottom lock from the inside (like I always do), and since my hands were full, left the top lock unlocked. I thought, "Let me go put all of this stuff in my car, then I'll dig my keys out from the bottom of my purse and go lock the deadbolt."

I arrived at the car door and hit the button on the door that will unlock the car. 

Nothing happened.

I hit the button again. Still nothing.

I was baffled. Why is my door not unlocking? I hit the button, the keys are with me, why is my door not unlocking? And then I remembered. 

I didn't have my keys. 

Cue frantic cursing and arm flailing. 

I had locked my purse, including ALL of my keys, inside my house. In my haste to leave the house, and because my hands were already full, I neglected to grab my purse. Somehow, by the grace of God, I had my shoved my phone into my back pocket. Also, it was 90 degrees, but! I remembered that our garage door was unlocked, so I could sit in the garage. Unfortunately, because I had not failed at adulting at some point earlier that day, I had ensured that the door leading from the garage to the house was locked. So close, and yet so far.

I sat in my garage and stared at my phone for a few minutes while I decided what to do. I tried to open the garage door into the house (decidedly locked) and the front door (also decidedly locked). I texted Ken and my mom, both of whom have keys, to see if either could rescue me. I knew that this was probably not going to happen, as Ken works 20 minutes away and teachers generally can't just bolt in the middle of the day for no reason, and my mom works 2 jobs, so I had no idea where she was at that moment. Had it not been 90 degrees, I would have walked myself to my mom's house (just over 4 miles away) and gotten my spare key from her house. I begrudgingly admitted to myself that I needed to call a locksmith. 

I learned at this point that I am clearly going into the wrong field, because locksmiths make great money. $85 for a service call, $125 for a service call, the estimates kept going up! I finally found a place that had $15 service calls and whose unlock services began at $39. I figured that since I had a locked bottom lock, it wouldn't possibly cost me more than that. (Ha ha, I'm adorable.) A nice Russian guy said he'd be at my house "as soon as possible, probably 30 minutes."

An hour later, I was still sitting my garage, trying not to be seen by my neighbors who would undoubtedly ask why I was hanging out in my own garage like a weirdo. The Russian guy called again. He was running late (no shit, Sherlock) and he was sorry. I didn't even really care at that point, because I had missed my study group and had no other plans and no other options. The locksmith, whose name was Eugene, eventually appeared. He was very nice and quite apologetic for his lateness, and then he got out to examine my door.

Good news: My front door has one of the best locks in the business, a Schlage.
Bad news: Schlage locks are un-pickable. He'd have to drill the lock and ruin it.

I asked if he could drill the shitty deadbolt in my garage door (which needs to be replaced anyway) and he said sure, for $150. At this point, I called my friend Mia, who was at school in the study group where I was supposed to be, to see if she could come rescue me and take me to my mom's. She said she could, but then Eugene said he might have another idea. He "wasn't supposed to do this" but, depending on how tight our door seal was, he might be able to wedge some air pillow usually used for car lockouts into the front door and tap the lock latch. It would be $89 and it might not work, but if it didn't work, I didn't have to pay for it. I told him to go for it.

Illicit door-pillowing
Two seconds after I snapped this photo, Eugene tapped the lock latch and my front door FLEW open, much to the surprise of Gershwin, who had been sitting behind the door, meowing plaintively because he knew I was outside. I was never so happy that our front door doesn't have the best seal. I ran inside, paid the nice man, promised I'd never tell anyone (HI INTERNET, DON'T TELL ON EUGENE), and then went on my way to Starbucks to study.

So, that was a major adulting fail of last week. Other adulting fails as of late include:

- Not folding the laundry right away and leaving in the basket for so long that it gets wrinkled and I have to wash it again (or at the very least, tumble it and hope for the best)

- Continually forgetting to pick up my new contact samples that were specially ordered for my weirdo eyeballs

- Finally cleaning out my purse and finding this disaster:

Tea kettle and spoon rest not included. Also not pictured? Giant pile of receipts and other trash.
- Forgetting to apply to the Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia scholarship again for next year (goodbye potential money)

- Waiting until the last possible moment to apply for a passport (just under the deadline for when I'd have to expedite the damn thing to get it before 6/26)

- I should be studying for neuro and anatomy right now but I'm not. Please send wine.

Making Melissa


And of course, the fact that I'm posting this confessional post on Thursday instead of Wednesday. Not so much an adulting fail as it is a blogging fail. Edit: It has been brought to my attention that it is Wednesday. Whoops. #medschoolbrain

What about you? Have you ever had a total adulting failure? Have you ever had to call a locksmith? If you are a locksmith, can you tell me why you charge so much? And for the love of God, can anyone tell me why I have 4 tea bags and 3 squashed granola bars in my purse?


8 comments:

  1. That graph is amazing! If it makes you feel any better, I once locked my keys in my car three times in one week. That was pretty awful.

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  2. I fail at adulting on the regular.

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  3. I once locked myself out on the balcony of my apartment. Fortunately I had my phone, otherwise I would probably STILL be there. My landlord thought it was hysterical.

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  4. I'm glad you're not living on the balcony of your apartment, still. That would be really awkward, and I hear Indiana gets pretty cold.

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  5. I used to lock my keys in my car on a nearly monthly basis. It was so bad. Now my car won't LET me lock the keys in it... but I'm pretty sure that I can still lock them in the trunk. I will not be testing that theory.

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  6. It's cool, I think most of us do!

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  7. That is good that you cannot lock your keys in your car now! I actually (accidentally) tested the locking my keys in my trunk theory. I threw my purse in there and shut the trunk and it beeped at me and popped open -- I tried this about six times before I finally realized that my keys were in my purse. I felt like an idiot ha ha!

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