Originally published by The Clifton Courier, September 30, 2020

I had a very annoying day the other day. 

It started out fabulously. It was a Saturday, the sun was shining, and I’d had carrot cake for breakfast. 

After breakfast I was supposed to go watch a game of footy. Now, I’m not one who really knows the rules of AFL all that well, despite having had One Of Them in the family for more than a decade. But I do really enjoy watching live community sports. 

You get yourself a few stubbies, you spend a nice afternoon in the sunshine and you get to yell like a menace. It’s not so much about knowing the rules; it’s about the vibe of the thing. And the pair I was going along to the match with on this particular day are just dandy. Having a few drinks and shouting with them is a good time.

So I was looking forward to the game.

But some communication failures meant I left breakfast with just half an hour before kick off and only a vague idea of where the game was, which was apparently “at the [insert team name here]’s place”.

Now, I’ve lived in Brisbane a while, but I am far from a local. I still need map apps to get me from A to B, even if I’ve been to A 40 times and I live at B. I didn’t know the oval’s name. I had a general idea of where the suburb was. But without pressing for further details, I searched the team name and eventually came up with a map location. 

I was going to be late, but only by about 10 minutes. So I set off to said location toot sweet*. I even took a toll road**. 

* If you could please pronounce this in your head the same way they say it on Kath and Kim, that would be very noice.

** I don’t use toll roads often, because a lot of the time you only save like five minutes and it costs you like five bucks. But I will resort to them when I’m in a hurry OR if I feel like treating myself to not having to encounter traffic lights like the common folk. Like, sometimes I have a cheeky “you’re worth it” moment while driving an treat myself to a slightly short route. It’s like a luxurious act of self care… which is a little sad, when you think about it.

But when I got there, I noticed a distinct lack of cars. I saw what looked like maintenance works on the field. And it dawned on me that I was at the wrong place. 

Then I saw a message from the third amigo telling me that the game was actually being played at a location 30 minutes from where I was. About the same time, I get a notification about my phone running out of battery. I knew it didn’t have enough juice to get me to the next location. 

So, being exactly nine minutes from my place, I decided to dash home and grab a charger so I could make the journey without my rectangular navigation device dying on me. 

I got home and, knowing I would be quick, I left my phone in the car. After considering leaving the car unlocked, I decided I’d better lock it up for security reasons and ran into the house. After a quick trip to the ladies room, I grabbed my charger and slammed the door shut behind me.

About a millisecond later, I realised that I’d locked my keys in the house. I let out a throaty, frustrated groan that one can only produce when one has no one to blame but oneself for the dumb predicament one found oneself in.

So then I tried to break into the house. 

I tried prying open the easy-to-reach windows. But we keep the windows locked when we’re away in case a robber tries to get in. 

Then I noticed a higher, tighter window was open. Usually the ladder is locked up in case a robber tries to get in, but this time it wasn’t. I figured this was the universe throwing me a bone. 

But it turns out the windows were still too high and tight to crawl into. Which is handy, in case a robber tries to get in.

So I tried reaching into window with a mop handle to unlock another window. But, alas, the security windows are both robber and dingbat-who-locked-her-keys-inside proof.

In the end, all the ladder did was put me at the right height to stare desperately at my keys on the bench. If anything, it felt like the universe mocking me by freeing the ladder.

But then, I figured, at least I learned that someone about my height would find it extremely difficult to break into my house.

And maybe there was some kind of cosmic force stopping me from going to that game for some unknown reason and this might have been the universe’s way of protecting me from some unknown danger. 

So I gave up.

Then, with a desire not to waste the afternoon and a motivation to make it clear to the neighbours that I was not a robber, I decided to mow the lawn instead. 

Actually, perhaps this whole thing was really just the universe telling me the yard was a mess.