Albert Hein<\/a> because it’s quick and easy, much easier than going to the supermarket when you don’t have a car.<\/p>\nI was 6 kms into my biking when the grocery guy showed up at the door.<\/p>\n
Let me try to create a visual for you. Imagine a short fat chick in grey sweatpant type shorts, no t-shirt and a plain cotton bra that’s about 1 cup size too small. The front of her chin length hair pulled up into a Pebbles-like ponytail and the rest held up by weird little clips all over her head.. with a black plastic headband to hold the little front hairs back. Sweat dribbling down the sides of her face and down between her bosom, her face red and splotchy looking.<\/p>\n
That’s what the grocery guy had greeting him at the door. Except I did grab a t-shirt as I legged it to the door… so he was spared the squished, sweaty cleavage.<\/p>\n
As I ran down the hall I noticed the distinct whiff of one of my cats having just had a dump in the litterbox, which is sat directly next to the door to our flat. So I had a choice to make…. do I go outside the door to pay the guy and lift the groceries in myself, saving him the smell of the kitty poo … or do I make him work for his money and bring them in.<\/p>\n
I figured my scary appearance was punishment enough so I stepped outside the flat, had a little laugh with the guy about how ridiculously sweaty and horrid I look, and paid him. As he left he waved and told me to have fun on my bike.. and I laughed as I turned around to go back into the house.<\/p>\n
That’s when I realized… when I was so busy grabbing my t-shirt, I wasn’t<\/em> grabbing my keys. Me, and my groceries, were locked out in the stairwell of our building.<\/p>\nIt’s ok, this isn’t a problem..<\/em> I thought to myself, knowing where our secret spare key is stashed.<\/p>\nOr … was stashed… until a few months ago when we took it out and forgot to put it back.<\/p>\n
I stood there, still sweating, with a plastic crate full of groceries and wondering which neighbour would be least painful to have see me in that state… Three doors later I was at my downstairs neighbours, whom I’d not yet officially met. (Even though she’s lived there for a few years now)<\/p>\n
She laughed and took me in, giving me a drink and reminding me to breathe. She’s 7 months pregnant and she was sleeping when I rang her doorbell, boy did I feel like an idiot.<\/p>\n
I dropped my groceries in her hall and she let me use the phone to call Xander to get him to come home and let me in.<\/p>\n
His battery was dead. I called his office, he wasn’t there.. he was at a seminar.<\/p>\n
I have never locked myself out. Ever… but on the day I do, not only is my husband out of the office, but his battery is dead. Put that together with my WoW auction nonsense and doesn’t it seem like the universe is out to get me!? *Paranoia Eyes<\/strong>*<\/p>\nI sat at the neighbour’s for 3 hours chatting and eating popsicles with her. Tomorrow I’m going to the mall to have a spare key made to leave at her place.<\/p>\n
At least then if I lock myself out again I will still show up at her door but she won’t be stuck with my sweaty ass on her sofa for 3 hours.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Today is weirdly special for two reasons. It’s the first day of my period (sorry guys, I know that’s way TMI for you) and it’s the day before weigh-in day. Which blows because period = bloat for me. Today I was trying to be really good. Eating healthy, drinking lots of water and even with …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[8,2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-391","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","","category-life-in-nl","category-randoms"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.canadutch.nl\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/391","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.canadutch.nl\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.canadutch.nl\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.canadutch.nl\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.canadutch.nl\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=391"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.canadutch.nl\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/391\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.canadutch.nl\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=391"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.canadutch.nl\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=391"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.canadutch.nl\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=391"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}