Tuesday, March 14, 2006

I Knew This Would Happen!

By far the biggest perk of my apartment is the garage; having a roof over my car makes winter a lot easier to deal with. It's a bummer that it's not attached to the house, sure, but ya can't have everything, I suppose. Trouble is, I only have one garage door opener, so I have to keep it with me. From day one I've been paranoid that I would close the door with the opener inside. 'Cause I'm a blonde (yeah, yeah, yeah).

Sure enough, guess what I did the other night? As I was walking away, I got that sinking feeling... I went inside and looked through my purse. I looked around the apartment (I often leave it inside because of this very fear). I grabbed my flashlight and headed out to survey the scene.

Fortunately my neighbors leave their side open all the time. There's a wall between the two bays, framed out on my side so that it's just flat plywood on the other. The roof of the garage peaks in the middle, but the wall ends a couple feet below the rafters. Old doors and shutters, extra lumber and the like are kept up in the rafters in the back where the garage door apparatus isn't in the way. There's a gap of about four feet where my eight foot ladder rises above the rafters, leaning on the other side of the wall.

I need to get over that wall. I look around, but find nothing to stand on in my neighbor's bay. All of my ladders are (of course) in my bay. I get a stool from inside, and stabilize it on the buckled cement floor. I set my flashlight down on a peice of plywood over the rafters to my left, willing it to stay in one place. I don't know if this is going to work, but it's all I have short of calling my bro-in-law over with the chainsaw.

I grip the rafter above me with both hands and hoist both feet over the edge of the wall in front of me. First one, then the other, pushing my body forward to get the wall under my knees, which I need for support as I lower and twist my upper body to duck under the rafter. I pause, sitting atop the wall, and retrieve my flashlight. It hadn't moved, which is a damn good thing since the entire garage would be pitch black without it. I angle the ladder out on the floor as best I can, and squeeze around it to climb down.

I shine the light into my window to see the garage door opener sitting on the passenger's seat. I push the button on my side of the wall, and as the door opens I retrieve the opener and look up at the wall in disbelief. It took some impressive acrobatic manuevering if I do say so myself, but it was easier than expected. I'm so excited by my success, I almost feel like doing it again. Instead I retrieve my stool from the other bay and bounce up the steps to my door as the garage closes behind me - this time with no regrets.

Judging from the comments I've received on this post, y'all might be missing the point: My success in solving the problem has liberated me from fear!

I had not ever noted the exact location of the button before. I tried to find it the other night (through the gap in the wall at the very front) but I was on the wrong track. Tonight, after looking, I went to the other side and reached the button easily by reaching my hand around the wall. Now, more than ever, I have no worries.

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