Since When....

do I come across as too stupid to open a door?

I took my daughter to the doctor this morning to get her hepatitis A shot so that daycare won't kick her out. We got there a few minutes before 8:00. I tried the door. It was locked. We sat in the hall, looked out the windows, etc. Another mother and daughter walked up and she tried the door. Then they sat in the hall.

At about 8:10, I was looking in the window and caught the eye of the receptionist who was chatting away on the phone leaning back in her chair (obviously not working). She sat up, got off the phone and came and opened the door. I guess she was trying to cover the fact that she wasn't working or something, but she then felt the need to add, "The door was unlocked."

Um, no it wasn't. I'm not a complete idiot. So, I said in return (completely out of character for me to say anything at all*), "Not when I tried it."
*Unlike on my blog where I'm very sarcastic and talkative, I'm very quiet and non-confrontational in person. I'm not sure how my comment popped out. I was even surprised I said it.

She said, "I unlocked it when I turned on the lights."

Whatever.

So after about 15 minutes of waiting in the waiting room -- we were the first people there for our 8:00 appointments, no wonder doctor's offices get behind, they start behind -- we finally got the shot and left.

The shot was pretty uneventful. She cried, but she got over it quickly, especially when a sticker came into play.

And, since I'm ranting and raving about stupid things today, can someone please tell me why a train engineer feels the need to lay on the horn at 6:00 in the morning?

We live near some train tracks. Not too close, but close enough to hear the horns when trains cross over intersections with the roads. Normally, I can hear it for about 3-5 seconds or so. This morning, at 5:53, it didn't stop. I wonder if someone was stopped on the tracks or something. I don't know.

It wouldn't bother me except it woke my daughter up way before I was ready to get up and that ruined the last 1/2 hour of sleep I so desperately needed. I usually sleep in the living room when my husband leaves for work, but I could hear the mouse scratching underneath the couch (and the thought of that little shit running across my face in my sleep makes me cringe), so I returned to bed. I. hate. mice. I will be borrowing traps from my father. I hate to think of how many there are. I prefer to believe there is just one or at the most 2 (because, well, while one was underneath my couch, one was playing in the pans under my stove -- don't worry I will be washing them under the hottest water my sink can produce). Surely, there can't be more than that, right? Right?