As of Saturday, Mom was out of the hospital and once again ensconced in a rehabilitation center (albeit a different one this time). I've been over there every day since, talking with her, reading to her and otherwise seeing to her needs.
(By the way, if you, like me, think my mom is a lovely person and would like to help her out, we're taking up a collection to help her finish the basement of her house as a handicapped-accessible apartment. Stairs are out of the question when you've had a hip replacement, and Mom has to negotiate two flights of stairs just to get to her bedroom in this house. Not Working For Her.)
Mom had a dialysis appointment in the late morning today, so I thought I'd take the time to run some errands. I've been using Miss V's little red car, a 16-year-old sedan which has developed a few quirks, including a driver's-side window that doesn't roll down and a driver's-side door latch that no longer opens from the outside. (To get into the car, you have to unlock and open the passenger door, lean across both front seats, unlock and open the driver door from the inside, block the door latch with any handy object and run around to the driver's side before it closes again. By the time I'm done here, I should be equipped to join the circus.)
Anyway, I had a few birthday cards to mail, so I drove up beside the mail drop just south of the post office, left the engine running, opened the driver door wide and left it open, and ran to the mailbox. As I slotted the cards into the blue box, there came two ominous sounds from behind me: *SLAM* *click*. The wind had just blown the driver's side door shut. And because this model of car happens to be one where all the doors lock automatically as soon as you put the car in drive... yep. The keys were still in the ignition, the motor was running, and my purse and phone were safely locked in the car where they were doing me little good. Worse, I'd hopped out of the car in a zone clearly labeled NO PARKING AT ANY TIME.
I paused for a moment, just to listen to the universe laughing at my idiocy.
Fortunately, the shop on the corner happened to be an auto body mechanic. Hail and well met, good auto body mechanic! I went into the office and told them my sad tale of woe and ineptitude, and one of the guys grabbed a Slim Jim and had the car unlocked in five minutes. And he wouldn't accept payment, either.
So I got errands done today! Even filled and washed the car. And I am getting an estimate on having that latch fixed ASAP. Because apparently I am not bright enough to drive Miss V's car.
(Thank you, Miss V, for letting me drive your car. Even if I'm kind of derpy at it.)
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