Just One of Those Days

So I am scheduled to house sit for the Smith family for a whole week, and am looking forward to ruling the roost in a house, even if it's just for a week.
I headed over there tonight, armed with my bag, my pillow, and a whole gallon of my favorite mint chip ice cream. I was worried about its lifespan, considering it was 104 degrees here in lovely Auburn today. So I just blasted the air conditioning all the way to the house, thinking how much I was looking forward to an evening of cable, ice cream, and some peace and quiet.
When I got there, I bolted for the house as fast as I could juggling my big armload. Just the walk from the car to the house left me sweating. It's way too hot here. I fit the key into the lock and...nothing. It wouldn't turn. "My arms can't be that weak," I thought, and applied more force. The bag was getting heavy on my shoulder and I started getting antsy from the heat. Still the key wouldn't budge left or right. I walked around the house and tried all four doors, same result. Their three legged dog, Lucky, followed me from door to door, looking at me with big expectant brown eyes. The heat was almost unbearable. To top it off, the back door had a heavy screen door that slammed fiercely on my heel. Suddenly, I had blood dripping down my leg. Great. Just great. And it hurt too.
After another round of unsuccessful tries, I headed over the neighbor's house (with a slight limp), hoping they would know what to do. I hoped I was walking up to the right house...that could be potentially awkward. And why dear God is it so hot? I kept thinking. All the while, my poor ice cream sits on the porch.
The neighbors, who were friends, were super sweet. After walking with me across the street to try all the doors again (did they just assume I had weak arms? Did they not believe I knew how to turn a key?), they deemed the key unworkable, and invited me into the blessedly air conditioned house. They're in the midst of moving, so their house was a bit turned upside down. The wife started to rifle through a huge stack of crinkled papers on the island counter, looking for Mrs. Smith's cell number. As the pile of papers seemed to grow in front of my eyes, I was still thinking about the ice cream...melting on the front porch. I have no idea how anyone could find anything in that stack of papers, but eventually she did.
Of course the cell phone number didn't work, she is in Mexico with no service. We tried calling all the other friends and neighbors, but no one had a key. We spent another 15 minutes trying to remember the name of the hotel they are staying at. We finally remembered that it was Club Med, we had to look it up online. Now neither husband or wife were very internet savvy. They managed to pull up a map of how to get to Cancun, a bunch of Spanish websites, and a toll free number that turned out to be an automated voice system entirely in Spanish... all of which did us absolutely no good.
The minutes dragged, but eventually they were able to get an actual hotel number. More Spanish. "I'm just going to push a random number" the wife said. Luckily (the first lucky thing that happened!), it worked and she was connected with the front desk. We left a message for them in their hotel room and that was all we could do. By then, the sun had started to set, and I was homeward bound once again. So much for my peaceful quiet night.
By the time I drove away with my soggy gallon of ice cream, I was still slightly frazzled. Not nearly as bad as the time I had to pee in the cup for the drug test (another story, another time), but still. Now there's no moral to this story, no happy God-thought that came out of it. I did get a melted ice cream and a bloody leg. And I did learn that it's way too hot in the state of California (maybe i'll move to...Seattle?). But it did make me laugh and I had to think, "It's just one of those days."