It seemed like just a normal morning- shower, contact lenses, clothes. Complaining quietly to myself about having to go to the office. Little did I know what was in store for me . . .
Anyway. I headed to the front door to begin my day, but as I opened the door, I was greeted by a feathery sound and a flap of wings. I screamed like a girl- a sort of strangled, high-pitched, “Yeeeaaaa”- and jumped back, just getting the door closed in time. There was a bird! Trapped! Between the wooden door and the storm door.
After the initial surprise died down, amusement and concern took over from fright. I had to figure out how to let the bird out and get out myself without allowing the bird to fly the other way into the house. That was a sitcom setup with which I just didn’t need to deal this morning. My first impulse was to open the door on my side very slightly, and try to push open the storm door with a broom handle. But there was a wall preventing me from getting the broom to the angle I needed. I thought some more.
Eventually, the obvious occurred to me. Go out the back door! So I did just that. Walked around to the front porch, where I could see the bird perched on the edge of one of the wooden door’s windows. I pulled out my phone, wanting to get a picture for history’s records, but as soon as I got close enough, the bird noticed me and dropped to the bottom of the door, out of sight. So I stood to the side and opened the storm door, and the bird flew out as fast as he could.
As soon as he burst out from his prison, another bird also took flight. I decided they were friends, and the second had been waiting there for the first to be freed. I like my personal storybook world.
I’m feeling much healthier today. And when I arrived at the office, I learned that I missed a grand total of five emails and two phone calls all yesterday afternoon. I have been here for an hour, spent at least half of that recounting my bird story, and have already dealt with everything I missed by going home sick. I think this week is pretty dull.