Fortunately for supine-on-the-icy-sidewalk me, the guy from next door (who also happens to be a member of the RI version of the Vecchio family) happens to be outside. I don't know whether he sees me fall or if he just hears my bloodcurdling yell when I do (I'm surprised the whole Eastern seaboard didn't hear me). Either way, he comes running over, almost falls himself, but in the end manages to help me up. I assure him I'm fine, thank him profusely, and do the logical thing: kick off my clogs (Note: Birkenstocks do NOT function well on icy surfaces) and way cool tie-dye socks, pick up my unjustly abused cell phone (and its estranged battery) and
I make it to the front door without further injury, and what do you know, it's locked. This wouldn't have been a problem at all if I hadn't gone and LEFT MY HOUSE KEY IN THE CAR, which is sitting WAY OVER THERE, possibly too close to the fire hydrant. I'm getting a little hysterical at this juncture, and more that a little pissed off at stupid Murphy and his Law and why the heck did he ever go into politics anyway because he bloody well SUCKS at legislation.
I'm way too chicken to go back to the car for my key, so instead I step onto the (sparse, slushy, half-frozen) grass next to the house and make for the back door (which is actually the side door, but now is definitely not the time or place to kvetch about improper architectural terms of location). The Door, whatever its placement, is also locked, but aha! I know how to open it with my debit card. Which? Is in my wallet. In the car, which is still playing chicken with the fire hydrant. This is the time I step past 'a little hysterical' and rush headlong into 'insane panicky overreacting'. As I frantically look around for something else to use, I'm literally on the verge of sobbing. Over the verge, even, in a kind of snowball effect where stupid frustrating stuff keeps happening over and over again. It's a looped nightmare; it's like Groundhog Day. It's like DRIVING IN TORONTO ALL OVER AGAIN.
About now Murphy decides to cut me a little slack and I remember I still have my work badge on. This will work!. I manage to open the door with that even though it seemed to take forever to get the latch to trip and I was sure someone would see me do it and call the cops. I get in without incident, thankfully, and climb the steps, wincing. After flinging myself into my room and cranking the electric heater I leave a phone message and an email in order to (at the very last minute) cancel an appointment I'd promised to keep, thereby inconveniencing a whole bunch of people. Go me.
My fingers are still a little sore but not nearly as bad as they were; there's a scrape on my right elbow that hurts but at least isn't bleeding. My left knee is a little achy but improving, and my cell phone seems to have suffered no permanent damage (and has been reunited with its battery).
Needless to say I'm not in the best of moods. I need to take a nap. I'll do that, but I'm also in the mood to spam LJ. You have been warned. If I do get the nap, though, I should be able to finish or almost-finish my Seekrit Santa story.
The end. For the moment. Unless my car is parked too close to the aforementioned hydrant.