Moving can be stressful. There are a million things to unpack, and on top of all that there are a bunch of things you have to do such as setting up your water and sewer service, calling for trash pickup, getting internet service, etc. I called Consumer's Energy to get our energy service set up, and that turned out to be a disaster.
In order for Consumer's to set up gas and electric in my name, I had to get a reading from our current meter. Luckily I knew right where that was because of the electrical inspection I had done a few weeks ago. It's on the side of our house by the chimney. The person on the phone asked me to go read it, and I said sure. I opened the door to run outside, and at the last second I grabbed my thin fall coat. It is December, after all, and I didn't want to go outside in just my t-shirt even if it was only for a minute. I was in my slippers and sweatpants, but I didn't care. I was only going to be outside for a quick minute...or so I thought.
I read the meter numbers to the Consumer's lady, and after I finished that call I walked back up to my front door to let myself inside. Well...it wouldn't open. I was shocked that an older house had automatically locking doors - I definitely hadn't locked the door behind me when I went outside. I walked over to our breezeway door, and that was locked too. So was the back door. Rex was at work and wasn't scheduled to be home for another seven hours. I walked around the house trying to find a way to get in, but it was fruitless. Also, we didn't know any of the neighbors yet, so I was definitely worried about one of them calling the police if they saw me trying to break into the house. I had a vision of myself calling Rex from jail to please come prove to these officers that I do, in fact, own the house into which I was breaking and entering. That didn't sound very fun, even if it would have made a fantastic blog post.
The wind was blustery and harsh, and my fall coat (which has holes in it, by the way) was not cut out for that type of cold. I sat down on my front stoop, folded my arms into my chest, and started shivering. My toes were cold too, as my slippers were getting all wet from the sidewalk. I pulled out my phone and called Rex, but he was with a patient and wouldn't have a break to come let me in for a few hours. I tried calling everyone in my family to perhaps go get the key from Rex and bring it to me, but none of them answered. I sighed, put my phone back in my pocket, and kept shivering and feeling sorry for myself. I looked warily in my window at the Yankee Candle Company jar candle burning on my table. I mentally ordered my cat not to get up on the table and knock it over. I'd be in real trouble if she did.
I looked around at the other houses in the neighborhood and considered walking up to one of them and asking if I could wait in there for someone to rescue me. I tried to decide which house might have the nicest people inside, but you obviously can't tell that from looking at the outside of houses. I eventually nixed that plan, because even if the people were nice enough to let me come inside (which was not a sure thing), I didn't want word to spread around the neighborhood that "the new neighbor in the blue house is a complete moron." After all, I locked myself out of my own house, and I was standing outside in slippers. It wasn't exactly my finest hour.
Finally I decided to get up and go for a walk, both because walking would warm me up and because feeling sorry for myself was getting boring. I walked out to West Main St, and I decided to explore my new surroundings. After all, if I couldn't work on unpacking my house, then at least I could find an adventure, right? I began by going to the Marathon station about a block down the main road. I went inside and walked around, but I didn't have money to buy anything. I was relieved to be in the warmth, but the sinister looking Indian man at the counter was watching me suspiciously. I tried to look enthralled by a pack of beef jerky and then truly perplexed by which variety of Laffy Taffy I might choose, but there's only so much convenience store food you can look at before you're officially loitering. I eventually gave up and went back outside into the biting December wind.
Another block down there was a cute restaurant called Nina's Cafe. I really wanted to go inside and order some hot chocolate, but once again I didn't have any money. I pictured myself sitting inside the cafe, sipping hot chocolate and people watching in the warmth until someone from my family would come help me. It sounded great. Without money, though, it was only a dream. I considered going inside, describing my plight, and promising that Rex would pay for my cocoa when he came to get me. I doubted that they would believe me, seeing as I had unbrushed hair, slippered feet, and a ratty old coat. I didn't look like an upstanding, home-owning citizen. I looked like a homeless lady. I was scared that I would be rejected and sent back out into the street like a societal outcast.
I was about to take my chances with Nina's Cafe when I saw a small sign up on a hill off of the main road next to a small building. It said "Kazoo Books." I literally gasped aloud when I saw this. A bookshop? A bookshop within walking distance of my house? I had driven this road dozens of times and never noticed this bookshop before. I wanted to cry for joy - I knew I could wait in a bookshop until rescue came. I could spend hours in a bookshop. I ran up the hill towards the shop, mentally willing it to be open. It was. I did a little jump of happiness - it was as if I'd been traveling in a foreign country and finally found a group of people who spoke English. These were my people. Book people. I was going to be okay.
I pushed open the door and heard the tinkle of the bell announcing my arrival. The bookshop was exactly how all bookshops should be: rooms upon rooms of floor to ceiling books. They even had the ladders to help you reach books on the top shelves. Antique looking overstuffed chairs and couches were stowed in every available space, allowing book lovers like myself to curl up and read. A giant cat tree sat in the front window, which allowed the two shop cats to sit and watch the world go by (when they weren't curled up on some reader's lap). I took a deep breath and inhaled the musty scent of old books. New books are my number one favorite smell in the world, but old books are definitely in my top five. I ran my fingertips lovingly along the spines of the books on one of the dozens of shelves - I couldn't believe I had found this oasis. Now I really didn't care if Rex came to rescue me until the end of his shift. I would be fine for the whole day.
Of course, as soon as I found a place to settle down, my sister called me back. She agreed to go get the key from Rex and bring it to me. While I waited, I chose a book about the history of the English language and settled into a particularly fluffy looking couch to read. The coffee table in front of the couch was shaped like a giant stack of books. When I pulled the bookmark of one of the books, a drawer pulled out. It was the most magnificent coffee table I have ever seen.
By the time my sister arrived, I was completely calm - quite the opposite of the panic I felt when I realized I was locked out of my house She took me home, I finally blew out that pesky candle that had been worrying me, and all was well. I'm actually a little bit glad that I got locked out, because now I know about Kazoo Books. I'm sure I will clock a lot of hours there over the next few years.
Now that I'm finished telling you about my adventure, I have to get back to unpacking. Step 1 on errands I need to run today: go make a spare key.
Where was my call??!?! ;)
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