Wednesday, January 21, 2009

A Breakfast Adventure

Usually I have fruit and yogurt for breakfast - today it was a Hebrew National Hot Dog. (They're yummy - try 'em)

Usually I heat the hot dog for 50 seconds in the microwave - today I'm boiling it in a small amount of water.

As the water begins to boil, I set the timer for 2.5 minutes and grab the trash to be emptied - it's only 3/4 full, but it will make me happy to come home tonight to an empty garbage can. I kick a couple cat toys out of the way, open the patio blinds, remove the broomstick blocking the sliding patio door.

I open the patio door, and a rush of cold air hits me through the sliding screen door - it's 40 degrees outside - no one ever told me that central Florida got this cold. I'm not quite fully dressed for work - I'm wearing jeans, slippers, and a sleeveless shirt. Since I'll only be outside for about 20 seconds, the temperature and my clothing aren't a factor.

I make sure Lina isn't underfoot - unlike Gus, she's never allowed outside. I open the screen door and step out, quickly pulling the screen door almost closed.

I scamper down the steps, toss my trash, and scamper back up the stairs - only to discover the screen door is now locked from the inside. Ah, no worries - how secure can a screen door lock be? A bit a jiggling and the latch will pop free. I chuckle. How funny is this?

I pat my pockets - yup, no keys, no phone, no wallet.

I jiggle, jaggle, joggle the door, and no luck. I carefully, forcefully lift the handle, hoping to lift the latch above whatever it's catching on. No.

I shake the fuck out of the screen door - no luck. I really don't want to damage the door, so I'm not all that rough.

The timer for the boiling hot dog goes off. Another chuckle - okay, the bleeping is going to be annoying. I hate the bleeping - and with this particular timer model, the bleeping never stops.

The only thing that would make this better would be if the neighbor girl came out to walk her tiny dog right about now - or the downstairs old lady could come out to try to strike up a conversation - and god forbid I should have to make small talk with another human, especially when I'm in an embarrassing situation.

Bleep Bleep Bleep Bleep Bleep Bleep!

But hey, it's just embarrassing. No big deal - I don't have to leave for work for another 45 minutes. I'll figure something out.

Except for the fact that there was only a half inch of water in the pan - and the water evaporates fast. Within a few short minutes, there will be a flaming hot dog on the stove, and the fire alarms will go off to sing a chorus with the kitchen timer. And at that point, I'll have to damage the screen door to get back in, or knock on someone's door and ask for help.

I go to the far end of the screen door, pop it off its track, pull it away from the door frame. I push the glass sliding door out of the way, step into the apartment, and close the glass sliding door. It looks as if someone broke into my apartment during the night, but I don't care right now.

I put a stop to the damn bleeping. The hot dog is a dessicated relic - I toss it, refill a bit of water and start the hot dog breakfast process over again. Fun.