When you'd rather be at work, you know you're having a bad day off

I've been having a problem with my front doorknob for a while. Not surprising; it was the cheapest one available, which I installed back in 1999 when some roommates decamped unexpectedly and I was feeling paranoid. (So I DO know how to install a doorknob.)

I picked a new knob up at Wal*Mart a few weeks ago, and procrastinated, as is my habit, thinking this was going to be a simple, 15-minute job, no big deal.

Silly me.

After forty or so minutes of earnest effort and some profanity, I came to the conclusion that I'd managed to get a defective knob---either that, or some joker swapped out the keys, because they didn't fucking work.

This meant another trip to Wal*Mart. *drums fingers on leg* Not how I hoped to spend any portion of today, thank you very much, let alone two hours. In addition to another doorknob, I managed to acquire any number of things that were not in my plans when I went in there. Things like diet Coke and lunch meat, fishsticks, bread and eggs, okay, that's legitimate grocery shopping. However, a pair of denim sneakers, the Jimmy Stewart version of Flight of the Phoenix, the spring issue of Mary Engelbreit's Home Companion, chocolate, Oreos and three bags of assorted chips** was NOT.

Luckily, the dead-bolt works, so I can worry about trying to install the damned lock tomorrow in daylight. Right now, I'm going to go see how Mr. Stewart compares to Mr. Quaid. That should be amusing!

_______________

** They brought back Steak and Worcestershire, Salt and Pepper, and Ketchup. My ankles are going to balloon from all the sodium....

When you'd rather be at work, you know you're having a bad day off

I've been having a problem with my front doorknob for a while. Not surprising; it was the cheapest one available, which I installed back in 1999 when some roommates decamped unexpectedly and I was feeling paranoid. (So I DO know how to install a doorknob.)

I picked a new knob up at Wal*Mart a few weeks ago, and procrastinated, as is my habit, thinking this was going to be a simple, 15-minute job, no big deal.

Silly me.

After forty or so minutes of earnest effort and some profanity, I came to the conclusion that I'd managed to get a defective knob---either that, or some joker swapped out the keys, because they didn't fucking work.

This meant another trip to Wal*Mart. *drums fingers on leg* Not how I hoped to spend any portion of today, thank you very much, let alone two hours. In addition to another doorknob, I managed to acquire any number of things that were not in my plans when I went in there. Things like diet Coke and lunch meat, fishsticks, bread and eggs, okay, that's legitimate grocery shopping. However, a pair of denim sneakers, the Jimmy Stewart version of Flight of the Phoenix, the spring issue of Mary Engelbreit's Home Companion, chocolate, Oreos and three bags of assorted chips** was NOT.

Luckily, the dead-bolt works, so I can worry about trying to install the damned lock tomorrow in daylight. Right now, I'm going to go see how Mr. Stewart compares to Mr. Quaid. That should be amusing!

_______________

** They brought back Steak and Worcestershire, Salt and Pepper, and Ketchup. My ankles are going to balloon from all the sodium....