|Adrien ADN Noterdaem|
I was looking for a picture of an old house to go along with my story from this morning, and found this instead. I like it better anyway, so I'm going with it. That face was basically my face this morning (minus the stubble). So, our house was built in 1919. Most things work pretty well, and it's been updated through the years. But our bathroom door is not one of those things. The locks on all the bathroom doors have never really worked, but we were doing okay until those little springs in the...clicky part of the door (?) that fit into the groove to keep the door shut stopped working. So now we just wedge the door shut which works fine since the frames have shifted with the house and that keeps the door closed just fine.
Until the clicky-part of the door gets stuck in its fitting-in-the-groove position, and the springs no longer allow the handle to actually turn the door to un-groove it.
Now, of all the days to find oneself possibly stuck in the bathroom, the day your Master's pass/fail announcement is supposed to hit your email inbox is not the day you want to be trapped without so much as a phone in your bathroom. Cue inner panic at the thought of being stuck in the bathroom all day, at the thought of not showing up for work and not being able to call anyone, but mostly about being stuck and not getting my pass/fail announcement the second it hits my inbox. I rattle the door. I try unscrewing the doorknob. I try unscrewing the hinges (which are painted over and thus impossible to undo without tools and a lot of muscle power). No luck.
I wish this story had a more climactic resolution, like me screaming out my bathroom window to passersby or me kicking in the door. In the end, I used the nail file portion of some nail clippers to click the clicky-bit slowly into the door, releasing me from my loo prison. My dogs didn't seem to even notice I had been in distress and gone. Thanks, dogs. Oh, and my pass/fail still hasn't hit my inbox. So House's face is still pretty much my face right now.