Let me tell you a story. One that should assuage any doubt you might have to the effect that those miserable hormones have on me...
Century High School parking lot
I pull into the parking lot with enough time to fill my water bottle from the glass of ice water I got from the drive thru. I gulp down a couple bites of breakfast, and open my door, reaching out of the car to pour the water into the water bottle. This is smart, because the mouth of the water bottle is not large, and I don't want to make a mess in my lap or my car.
Enter car that wants to park in the empty space next to me
I step out of my car and gently close the door to allow the other car to park. I move the back of my car, and transfer said water into said water bottle.
note: the parking lot is filling up with other choir members who are arriving for rehearsal
I walk back up to my car, grab the handle... and nothing happens. So I try again, thinking to myself "Self, this is not happening. Mental swear word, mentally beat my head against a wall. mental swear word." Again, nothing happens. I look in the window, and there I see on the passengers seat my folder of music and my purse, which contains my cell phone (aka lifeline) and yup, my car keys. Brilliant.
enter nice person who sits next to me in choir
"Do you need to use my phone?" She says. "Yes, I do," I say. "But wait, I don't have any phone numbers because they are all in my cell phone...in my car." Crap. (so much the nickname I had when I was little...'the Phonebook' since I knew everyone's phone number by heart.) Wait, I do have one number in my head...the home phone number of my roommate's parents. Except that won't do me any good, because they are up in Hillsboro visiting their other daughter!
I call the number, hoping that someone will be there to answer. Hallelujah! Their son is out there working, so he answers. He gives me his mom's cell number, which I promptly dial. She answers, and I tell her the story. I ask her to call my roommate and ask her to bring my spare car key (from our house in Lake Oswego) to the high school as soon as possible so that I can rehearse.
several phone calls later
My AMAZING roommate brings my spare key to the high school, and waits for me to unlock my car. She then takes my spare key back... yeah, smart idea, since I can't be trusted with the one I already have. I get my music and belongings from the car, and go back and enjoy my very long rehearsal.
Here's the hilarious part:
At lunch break, we are carpooling to a nearby restaurant. I volunteer to drive, but first I have to clear out my back seat. I unlock the front driver side door and reach back to unlock the back door...
You guessed it.
IT'S ALREADY UNLOCKED!!
Has been the WHOLE TIME!
This is why I don't like hormones.