My Forgetfulness Knows No Bounds

Friday was my second day of working on the garage.  I thought I had stumbled upon a breakthrough when I learned that I could close the garage door on the wall console.  When I told Chamberlain about it, they told me that's usually the case.  Wah-wah-wahhhh.  What was still wrong with the sensors were either the sensors or the wires leading to the sensors.  To figure out which one it is, the representative (who, by the way, was the same woman who helped me the day before, coincidentally enough -- and I was so glad to get Lois again, by the way, so thank you!) told me I need to do a "short-wire" test.  That sounded complicated, so I decided I would leave instead.

I was so glad to be done with it, such as it is.  If I could close it, at that point that was fine, even if I had to go down all the way to the basement and close the door that way (I didn't know you could still open it from the remote; you just can't close it).  I ain't no engineer or handyman.  I just don't want to deal with it anymore.  So I took my laptop and went out for some coffee and time to bang out some columns.

But as I sat down at the coffeeshop, oh, I forgot my phone!  Whatever; I had work to do and frankly, I didn't give a shit.  So I worked until it was time where, if my parents were to call me home for dinner, they would have.

And when I promptly came home My Fucking Mother was fucking yelling at me at a level I hadn't heard since she went off on me after I told her I was going to see my sister get married in Europe.  "Goddamn you, you left the basement door wide open!  You let all the cold in -- and the rats, too!!  And you left your phone on the floor, who does that?!?!?!"

Whoops.  Seems like in my rush to leave and the euphoria of "fixing the problem," I totally forgot that I left the basement door leading to the garage wide open.  I guess I thought that I needed to go back, but I knew then and there I was done with it.  I really don't know how I could totally fuck up like that and forget.  But I know I'm capable of that, that I have that awful, awful oversight in me.

Normally, if My Mother said, "I'm gonna beat the shit outta you!" that'd be reason enough to start a fight so hellacious the house would burn down.  But I knew I screwed up royally, so I just said I'm sorry, I just totally spaced out.

And the weird thing was, she seemed to accept that.  Dinner went without incident, and Mother and I spoke to each other like nothing happened.  Because it was over.  Probably because I've seen her totally forget to do things too.  That's how her temper is: We will have these vicious, epochal battles once in a while, but most of the time we're just cool with each other.