"Came in through the window..."

I was in a rush to catch the 9:15 bus to work. I was feeling proud of myself that I had actually put on make up, made lunch and ate breakfast all before I needed to leave. You can imagine the stares I get when I'm putting on makeup and/or trying to discretely eat while on the bus. They more or less all translate into "Look at that crazy white girl."

I hurried out the door and pulled it shut behind me. I habitually checked my purse to make sure I had my wallet and bus money, but my wallet wasn't there. I reached for my keys. They were also not there. I frantically turned the door handle just in case I had only dreamed that I locked it. Turns out I wasn't dreaming.

My roommates, Betty Crocker and The Vegan, were already at work so there was no use calling them.

I ran around the side of the house and manhandled open the broken back gate hoping that Betty Crocker had forgotten to lock the back door after letting the dog out in the morning. Nope, it was locked too.

At this point, anxiety was causing me to sweat. Off came my sweater.

The two first floor windows in the back didn't have screens and they appeared to be unlocked. "Boy was I in luck," I thought.

But, alas, I thought wrong. They had been painted shut two days prior when Betty Crocker and Boyfriend repainted the family room.

I began sweating more realizing that I was going to have to get creative and probably dirty. Off came my blouse. I was now down to my tank top, pants and heels.

I squeezed back through the broken gate and surveyed my final option--the kitchen window on the side of the house.

The window is about five feet off the ground and is the kind that gets pushed open to the side like a door.

I pried open the unlocked window. At first, this concerned me. If I could could get this open, surely someone else who intends to steal can get it open too.

However, this was not the time for such thoughts and I kicked off my heels with purpose.

After getting it open, my next step was getting up high enough to begin climbing through it. I grabbed the cooler off the back porch and stacked it underneath the rack for the hose. With one foot on the cooler and the other on the hose-rack, I pulled myself up.

The opening is less than a foot wide. I determined that I was going to have to go in sideways.

I started to slide in with one foot dangling in the air and the other still on the hose rack, and then I was momentarily stuck. As I dangled there with only my head and shoulders inside, I became concerned that I would rip my new pants due to my large size and the little window.

There was no time for ripped pants or for me to put on a new outfit. I was on a deadline here.

At that point, I took a long, deep, breath, I jumped down from the window, and I took off my pants. Dignity became a friend I no longer had.

I climbed back up to the window. I lodged my torso through and then I was stuck again. Stuck with my head nearly in the sink and my pink-panty-covered ass sticking up in the air. Shame had now run away to be with my dignity and they were nowhere to be found.

I grew increasingly concerned. Were my hips and booty too big to fit through the window? Would I make it to work? What would I do if I had to sit on the porch all day until Betty Crocker or The Vegan came home?

I was beginning to feel like a cross between a circus freak and Fiona from "Burn Notice" as I quickly brainstormed how I would get all of me through the window.

Putting all of my weight into my arms, I ungracefully slid in until I could get one foot up onto the counter. Then, painfully, I got the other one through and I jumped down off the counter. I ran upstairs to my room and grabbed my keys and wallet. I ran back downstairs. Suddenly the adrenaline of needing to get inside had worn off and the scratches from the window on my legs were starting to sting.

I ran back outside and put on my pants and shoes that were still underneath the kitchen window. I ran around to the front porch and put on my shirt and sweater, grabbed my purse and then I ran to the bus stop.

Somehow, I made it to work on time.

It's like real life, but funny.

Some people are just blessed with an uncanny knack of finding themselves in ridiculous situations. I am one of them. Sometimes, I might as well have asked for it. Sometimes, it's just dumb luck. Either way, I've accumulated some pretty outlandish memories and I am always making more. 
Here are my adventures all in one place so that, together, we can all laugh at me and my amazing friends.

Love,
Emily