Ha ha!  I managed to recover almost all of my original post!  Take that Dell!  Take it and like it!   – wg

written yesterday:

Today I got stuck in the shower. Not like trapped by a cold-water blast; or
someone knocking at the front door while I’m nekkid. No, I was actually locked in the shower.

One of the things we’ve needed to do since we’ve moved in
was get the shower door fixed. It
doesn’t close all the way and then water drips all over the floor, soaking the
bathroom rug. The rug gets all
smelly with mildew and I’m constantly doing this weird rotation of wet rug(s)
hanging over the bathtub (until they get all crusty dry!), new rug soaking up
water, and then transferring all wet or partially wet mildewy rugs to the wash
for a soaking of Oxy-clean and… repeat.

Keen, however, has this method of using his super-strength
to sort of fling the door shut behind him as he gets in, thereby actually
making the door shut. Thus…no
drips. (You have to talk like this in
reference to super powers.)

In an effort to attempt this miraculous achievement myself,
today I tried flinging the door shut. I’ve tried this method in the past without success, but today I felt a
little… dare I say… touch of fate in the air? The boding of greatness? Anyway…
I dropped my clothes, stepped into the shower, flung the door…

And it stuck! Woo
weee! All was well, I enjoyed a peaceful
shower. Even got to shave my legs! And
then at the end I prepared to step out onto a nicely dry bathroom rug…

and couldn’t get the fucking door open.

It was wedged something good and I, alas, had not the
super-strength to get it open again. I
banged at the door, kicked it a few times, targeted the lower right corner
where the wedging seemed to be focused, wiggled anything that would wiggle. Of course, I didn’t have my glasses on so I really couldn’t see what I
was doing. I stood up on the seat and
yelled for Keen over the glass door, hoping against hope that he’d hear me
through the bathroom, through the door, through the bedroom, down the stairs, across the living
room, dining room, hallway, over Chance’s yelling, and into the den. I yelled for a good five minutes.

He didn’t hear me.  (But I’m sure the neighbors could.)

Wait, what about Chance?  He’s my trusty sidekick and he always shows up at least once any time I’m in the bathroom!  Would he be able to accurately carry a rescue message
for me? Maybe!  I wait for Chance. And wait… and wait.  What about one of the cats?  Maybe I could quickly train one of them into Lassie-action by dribbling water at it from over the top of the door!  I peer through the frosted glass for cats.  No cats. 

At this point resignation set in. With my luck, I found myself thinking perched
on the edge of the seat and separating the bath items into edible and
non-edible, I’m unknowingly already pregnant and I’ll gestate here for the 40
weeks and have to give birth in the goddamn shower. At least I have plenty of hot water.

I hear that’s good in a birth.

Wait, a true hero never gives up! Even if she doesn’t have super-powers. Or can even see.  Maybe I could cut through the doors with my now rock hard (albeit chilly) headlights!  This nefarious shower wouldn’t beat me!  I kicked at the door a couple more times… and it finally popped open.  At least a good ten minutes after my shower ended.  Maybe more.

But this is what I find truly mystifying about the episode…

Normally, I can’t take a shower, get dressed, or even comb my hair without someone following me. The one time I need assistance the entire household decides to give me a minute to myself?  What the hell?!

           – the weirdgirl