1. I had a busy week last week, mostly because I was trying to fit seven days worth of stuff into five days because I attended a writing retreat over the weekend.
2. We all know I can't leave my house without doing something absent-minded or ridiculous.
3. Usually because I'm almost always somewhere else inside my head while I try to live real life, and that often blows up in my face.
4. My week was fine until I left the house to drive to the retreat. I had to stop by Target for my contribution to the weekend's menu and then by Dress Barn to find a pair of non-denim, non-yoga pants to wear at my daughter's dedication on Sunday and to an upcoming reception for the Nashville literary community. (Although, let's be honest ... any reception for a literary community will probably include at least ONE pair of yoga pants in attendance ...)
5. I think my mistake was in stopping at Target first. Why?
6. Because the automatic doors ruined me for all other doors.
7. Ruined me.
8. Need proof?
9. I walked into Dress Barn, grabbed the first pair of nice black pants I saw, purchased them, and then headed for the door. I had a two hour drive ahead of me, and I was already running a little behind. I had no time to waste with browsing or dressing rooms.
10. I was focused on leaving.
11. Sadly, I should've been focused on HOW to leave.
12. I walked toward the front doors like a Boss. I had it timed just right. Slow enough to give the sensor for the automatic door time to realize I was coming, but fast enough to hit the doorway right after the glass obligingly got out of my way.
13. The problem?
14. Dress Barn doesn't have automatic doors.
15. You'd think since I had to manually open the door to enter the store that I would've realized this, but alas. My mind had left Dress Barn the second I'd finished purchasing the pants. My body was simply trying to catch up.
16. I closed in on the door, and some small presence still lingering in my head (instead of thinking through my route and running over the workshops I was scheduled to present) said quietly, "The door isn't opening."
17. I didn't slow down.
18. The voice spoke louder. "The door isn't opening. It ISN'T opening."
19. The rest of my brain, yanked rudely from its contemplations, said "Huh?"
20. At this point, I was maybe twelve inches from the door.
21. My brain blinked, looked around, realized the danger, and screamed, "ABORT! ABORT!"
22. But as is usually the case with me, physics, my old scientific nemesis, got the best of me.
23. I was already in motion, and the only thing that could stop me was an immovable object.
24. The door decided to volunteer for that task.
25. I slammed into the glass door like I'd robbed a bank and was trying to make a getaway. Like I meant business.
26. Like a BOSS.
27. Because when I do something? I never do it halfway.
28. It looked a lot like this:
Followed by this:
29. The poor saleslady next to the door made a dreadful snort-cackle sound before she swallowed her laughter and asked if I was ok.
30. I told her to just go ahead and laugh. I know if I saw me? I'd be laughing for the next hour.
31. I gathered the shreds of my dignity around me and left the building like THIS:
32. And then I got into the car and called Myra McEntire, MG Buehrlen, and Jodi Meadows to tell them what I'd done. They weren't surprised in the least. I think the only thing that would surprise them at this point is if I leave the house and DON'T do something stupid.
33. Aaaaaand, speaking of doing something stupid ...
34. I wear contacts, which means that when I travel, I need travel-size contact solution. Thanks to my eye doctor (whose somewhat combative relationship with me is documented here), I have TWO travel sized bottles. He gave me samples the last time I was in. One is a regular saline solution. One is a hydrogen peroxide solution that must be neutralized by putting my contacts in a special container that has a metal disk and then leaving them there for a full six hours.
35. Guess where my brain was while I was packing?
36. Not in my bathroom reading the labels on my contact solution bottles, I can tell you that much.
37. Know when I figured out I'd taken the hydrogen peroxide mixture by mistake?
38. WHEN I TOOK MY CONTACT OUT OF THE SOLUTION SATURDAY MORNING AND PLACED IT ON MY EYE.
39. My eye was red for an hour afterward. It. Was. Awesome.
40. And guess what? I'm traveling again this weekend!
41. What could possibly go wrong?
2. We all know I can't leave my house without doing something absent-minded or ridiculous.
3. Usually because I'm almost always somewhere else inside my head while I try to live real life, and that often blows up in my face.
4. My week was fine until I left the house to drive to the retreat. I had to stop by Target for my contribution to the weekend's menu and then by Dress Barn to find a pair of non-denim, non-yoga pants to wear at my daughter's dedication on Sunday and to an upcoming reception for the Nashville literary community. (Although, let's be honest ... any reception for a literary community will probably include at least ONE pair of yoga pants in attendance ...)
5. I think my mistake was in stopping at Target first. Why?
6. Because the automatic doors ruined me for all other doors.
7. Ruined me.
8. Need proof?
9. I walked into Dress Barn, grabbed the first pair of nice black pants I saw, purchased them, and then headed for the door. I had a two hour drive ahead of me, and I was already running a little behind. I had no time to waste with browsing or dressing rooms.
10. I was focused on leaving.
11. Sadly, I should've been focused on HOW to leave.
12. I walked toward the front doors like a Boss. I had it timed just right. Slow enough to give the sensor for the automatic door time to realize I was coming, but fast enough to hit the doorway right after the glass obligingly got out of my way.
13. The problem?
14. Dress Barn doesn't have automatic doors.
15. You'd think since I had to manually open the door to enter the store that I would've realized this, but alas. My mind had left Dress Barn the second I'd finished purchasing the pants. My body was simply trying to catch up.
16. I closed in on the door, and some small presence still lingering in my head (instead of thinking through my route and running over the workshops I was scheduled to present) said quietly, "The door isn't opening."
17. I didn't slow down.
18. The voice spoke louder. "The door isn't opening. It ISN'T opening."
19. The rest of my brain, yanked rudely from its contemplations, said "Huh?"
20. At this point, I was maybe twelve inches from the door.
21. My brain blinked, looked around, realized the danger, and screamed, "ABORT! ABORT!"
22. But as is usually the case with me, physics, my old scientific nemesis, got the best of me.
23. I was already in motion, and the only thing that could stop me was an immovable object.
24. The door decided to volunteer for that task.
25. I slammed into the glass door like I'd robbed a bank and was trying to make a getaway. Like I meant business.
26. Like a BOSS.
27. Because when I do something? I never do it halfway.
28. It looked a lot like this:
Followed by this:
29. The poor saleslady next to the door made a dreadful snort-cackle sound before she swallowed her laughter and asked if I was ok.
30. I told her to just go ahead and laugh. I know if I saw me? I'd be laughing for the next hour.
31. I gathered the shreds of my dignity around me and left the building like THIS:
32. And then I got into the car and called Myra McEntire, MG Buehrlen, and Jodi Meadows to tell them what I'd done. They weren't surprised in the least. I think the only thing that would surprise them at this point is if I leave the house and DON'T do something stupid.
33. Aaaaaand, speaking of doing something stupid ...
34. I wear contacts, which means that when I travel, I need travel-size contact solution. Thanks to my eye doctor (whose somewhat combative relationship with me is documented here), I have TWO travel sized bottles. He gave me samples the last time I was in. One is a regular saline solution. One is a hydrogen peroxide solution that must be neutralized by putting my contacts in a special container that has a metal disk and then leaving them there for a full six hours.
35. Guess where my brain was while I was packing?
36. Not in my bathroom reading the labels on my contact solution bottles, I can tell you that much.
37. Know when I figured out I'd taken the hydrogen peroxide mixture by mistake?
38. WHEN I TOOK MY CONTACT OUT OF THE SOLUTION SATURDAY MORNING AND PLACED IT ON MY EYE.
39. My eye was red for an hour afterward. It. Was. Awesome.
40. And guess what? I'm traveling again this weekend!
41. What could possibly go wrong?
