trapped like a rat . . . .

OK, so we know I have an attachment . . . bordering on obsession . . . to my ancient red Miata . . I know, I know, not healthy. But I really do adore . . . especially this time of year . . . tooling around town, top down, music blasting. I reiterate . . . . it makes me feel good.

That said, I also love my home . . . . I like to sit in the quiet and listen to the sounds that make it so . . . the fridge cycling on and off . . . the dryer running . . . Katie's door squeaking in the breeze through the window . . . the whir of my computer speakers . . . the squirrels running across the pool cage to annoy the cats . . . the sound of the 9TS's foot steps. They are all things reminiscent of my life. But as Katie and I sat on her bed yesterday afternoon, working on a project, a semi familiar noise wafted from the front of the house, up the stairs and into her room. I know that sound but I don't. As I get up to investigate, I hear the screen door slam as the 9TS enters grumbling beneath his breath.

"The spring on the garage door is broken."

So that is why the sound was semi familiar. The garage door attempting to open and close. Over and over again. Now I hear a different noise . . . Cha-ching.

Then panic set in as the 9TS announced that the door would not budge . . . even manually. His car was in the driveway. The Miata . . . trapped in the garage . . . . tethered . . . . corralled . . . unreachable . . . I could almost hear its plaintive cry.

I called the company we have used for years . . . they could come next Tuesday. TUESDAY!!!! I have places to go . . . people to see . . . . speed limits to break. And even if I didn't . . . . trapped is not acceptable. I need to run to the store. I need . . . I need . . . FREEDOM!!!!

We called another company . . . they would be here today. The hours ticked by. I paced. Finally they arrived and once again, I can back her out and fly down the road to nowhere in particular. I don't like being trapped like a rat. No, not I.