There are a few events each year for teachers that add unneeded stress. One of those is Open House. In my district, we have Open House in October. Didn't we just meet parents at Orientation in September? Yes, we did. Aren't we going to meet with them again for Parent Teacher Conferences in November? Yes, we are. Why are we having Open House in October? No reply…and then "That's just the way it works out."
So, since I am ridiculous, I decide that I will put my new cake pan to use and bake/decorate and Open House cake for the staff. Yeah, not really a big deal, I mean, it's only like two and half hours the night before, and let's be honest, I have nothing else going on in the evening. Plus, I really enjoy decorating cakes, and the staff loves it. The only thing this narcissist likes more than telling myself how amazing I am is hearing it from others.
I make and decorate the cake while watching The Lightening Thief and Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs (thank you Red Box). I got a lot more work done during the second movie since it was…how do I put this lightly? LAME. Sorry, I just couldn't get into it. I LOVED the Lightening Thief though.
Anyhow, while putting on the finishing touches, I realized that the house was starting to lean. That was a bad thing. I started shoving the extra cut off parts under the back of the house. This, I believe, is a common practice in actual house building. The problem then became the lean in the other direction. Let's just leave it with saying that the cake and I had several abrupt conversations about foundational integrity and time.
In order to look more grown up and professional, I chose a very nice outfit and laid it out the night before. I also had great plans for my hair and make-up. When I got dressed that morning, I hated what I was wearing. So I changed. Twice. Finally satisfied, I started on my hair. Since I was in amped up and speedy mode, my little dog was running around jumping on my legs. This usually isn't a problem, until she jumps on something important. Like the cord to my flat iron. As it started to fall, I grabbed it, around the plate. Luckily, it was only a minor burn on one finger.
Now, I live about 20 minutes from the school I work at. That means, in order to run home and let my dog out, I need at least 50 minutes of time. That was time I did not have. So, I decided to just take the dog to school and leave her in her crate in my trunk. I've done this before, and it isn't a big deal. Don't feel bad for the dog. This added a heightened sense of anxiety in the morning as I packed up the crate and food and dog. I was, of course, irritated about the burn it seemed like she caused, but at the same time not being mad at her since she's just a dog and didn't mean to do it.
It took several trips to get everything down to the car, but I was feeling good about the time frame. I put the cake in the backseat (which was down so there's be more room in the trunk) and the dog in the front seat. Now, as I was putting the dog in the front seat, she started to squirm and jump around. I finally dropped her in with the keys that were in my hand. Still not letting myself get angry, I closed the door and went over to the trunk to put the crate in. Oh, forgot to pop the trunk. Oh, the doors are locked. Oh, the keys are in the car, locked in the car, with the dog…and the cake.
Never before had I wished so strongly that my dog could do tricks, like unlock doors. Instead, she just started whining and running around. The one fortunate thing in this particular aspect was that her spastic episode wound her leash around the e-brake handle causing her to be just out of reach of the stupid cake.
So, I stop trying to get into the car, since there isn't even a possibility that I can at this point, and start trying to find a maintenance man. There are no less than three maintenance men smoking outside of my apartment window every morning. This morning, not a single one, anywhere. The light was on in their office, so I knocked and knocked on their door without success. I walk over to the office, which I see opens at 8. It is now 7:45. If I wait 15 minutes, I will most likely get caught in Renton and Maple Valley traffic, causing me to arrive at school 5 minutes after the final bell. As I figure all of this out in my head, it starts to very lightly drizzle. Remember that I have already burned my finger so I could have straight hair.
Just before the inevitable freak-out, and amidst feverish and fervent prayers, I realize that the maintenance guys are probably over at the other building, the one that is getting new paint that week. I dash across the parking lot and find them busily joking around and smoking with the painters. I explain that I'm locked out of the building and I need in. Finally, one comes with me back to my building. He puts in a code and the door pops open. Smiling, he tries to walk away. I assure him that his work is not done, and that I need into my apartment since my house keys are locked in my car with my car key, but my spare car keys are locked in my apartment.
The spare apartment keys are in the office, which I remind him is not open, but he reminds me that he has a key. Good, great, let's go! Only, while we are on the way to the office, he gets a call on the radio to go help someone in my building…AND HE DOES! I was less than happy. Finally, he goes to the office, gets the key, comes back, lets me into the building, and then into my apartment. I grab my spare key and have him relock my door.
I arrived at school just in time to remember that we had a mandatory staff meeting at 8:00. It was then 8:20am. I took a deep breath, started my computer, and in walked my students. The cake was a big hit, Open House was a breeze, and I now triple check where my dang keys are.
