Monday, September 12, 2011

Things My Husband Will Sleep Through

I locked myself out of the apartment this morning. It was one of those slow motion moments when I looked down and saw my car keys, not my house keys. With my hands full of my water bottle, my car keys, my iPhone, headphones and trash, I was in too much of a clustered hurry to pay close enough attention. And I paid for it.

I went ahead and worked out because I figured it was closer to Chef's time to get up (well, a little closer) and therefor I might have more of a chance of him waking. Oh how wrong I was. My quest to get into the apartment began at 5:45 a.m. Here's a list of things I did, yelled or tried to get in or wake my husband:

  • 15 phone calls to his cell phone
  • 21 text messages including some of these gems:
    • Wake up, please!
    • I'm locked out
    • please please wake up
    • Knuckles are raw
    • I'm getting desperate here. Please please wake up.
    • Going to see if security can let me in.
    • No luck.
    • Need to get to work.
    • Still trying.
    • Mondays suck
    • I'm sure our neighbors hate me
    • How are you not hearing any of this??
    • I think you might be dead
  • Cop knocks every two minutes (aka that three knock rhythm that cops use when trying to alert people they're there)
  • Kicking the door
  • Going to our windows (which were open. However, there was a large embankment and a large fence separating the embankment from the sidewalk) and yelling Chef's name.
  • Throwing pretty large stones at the window screen so that I got the fan knocked out of the window.
  • Asking the security guard to try and hike me over the fence.
  • Trying to squeeze under the fence.
In the end (and by end I mean TWO HOURS after I first started trying to wake Chef up), it was a few more stones thrown at the window and me yelling his name again.  His first response after I walked through the door: "Why did you try to call me? You know that never works?" It was only after a few minutes explaining the steps above that we both started laughing.

Two things:
1) I must have chilled out a little because I didn't cry, scream or have a nervous breakdown even being 90 minutes late for work. 
2) If Chef and I choose to have a kid, I hope that kid will inherit Chef's ability to sleep through things (among other things).

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