I’m spacey. Not like Kevin. Like outer. This is a well-established fact.
So, this afternoon, on uncurling myself from the correspondence and phone calls, I made my way out into the afternoon sunlight only to find myself trapped.
I was at The Hungarian’s house, and there is a little front porch that is gated, and the gate is keyed from both sides. To escape from the house one has to buzz the gate open from the inside, open the gate, shut the door of the house behind you, and trip merrily onwards.
Sadly, I locked the door before buzzing myself out as I had, for a critical moment, believed the gate to be open.
Long story short, I’d an impromptu “puppy cage” scene while waiting for The Hungarian to get back from work. My Twitter friends were for the most part (and rightfully so) amused at my plight.
It was a long hour, and hard on the butt, but I was finally rescued by my handy dandy Magyar in shining armor.
Or at least carrying a guitar and a bemused grin.
After telling the Tragic Tale of my Epic Fail, it was nice to have some time to relax and be reassured that everything was OK. And, indeed, it is.
And late-afternoon naps are lovely, are they not?