All I wanted was to pull in my garage, walk in my house and go to bed. After a long day of traveling, I was so tired and couldn’t wait to go to sleep. I pulled in the garage, got out of my car and walked to the back door. I hit the garage door button, and the door began to close. Then it stopped. I punched the button again. The door went back up. I hit the button. The door began to lower and then went right back up.
I thought there must be something in the way. Nope. All clear. I played around with the sensors to make sure they were aligned. They were. I went back to the garage door button and punched it. For the third time, the door began to close and immediately went back up. I punched it harder this time, and nothing happened. The door did not go up nor down. I stood there in a long pause, then punched it again. Nothing.
By then, I was mad. The thought of a calm, restful night were over. What was I going to do? It was midnight, I was alone, and my garage door wouldn’t close. I didn’t have anyone to call, and I was alone. I started cursing every other woman in America who had a husband whom she could call to help. I just wanted someone to help me, and help me right then.
I took a breath. It would have been easier to say, “Honey, can you come help me, please?” It would have been so much nicer if I hadn’t had to deal with the garage door at midnight when I was tired. But, there was no one to help. Just me, myself and I. I used to do things like this for years when I wasn’t married, so I looked around and saw a manual pull cord hanging from the garage light. I grabbed it, and manually closed the garage door. I did this with no help. I did it by myself.
So I took another deep breath, smiled and walked inside to go to bed. The door was shut and fixed, if just for the night. I’d taken care of the situation. All by myself.