Let's talk about things that make me feel less like an adult

I'm out of town for work this week. Staying in a hotel. A hotel with those key cards that can be frustrating... but never as frustrating as THIS.

My room has two doors... one on each end of the room. One door opens to the lobby with the gym and pool... the other door opens to a hallway that I suppose service uses because that's where my breakfast came from this morning.

Last night I needed ice. And Ginger Ale. Needed.

I had already showered... had my pjs on... and if you're female you know that once your bra is off for the day, it's not coming back on. Right? right. I'm glad we all agree. I have the same rule with shoes.

Surely the ice machine is right down the hall... right?

I head out without shoes, and with the ice bucket and my arms in awkward positions so as not to expose le boobies. I know. That's just country.  But I'm thinking this is going to be a discrete, quick trip down the hall.

Okay... surely the ice machine is at the other end of the hall that I hadn't explored, right?

Failed mission. I head back to the room... empty ice bucket thinking to myself "this is one of the many reasons I keep the husband around" (I mean, obviously, there are so many other reasons) He wouldn't even need to ask where the ice machine is... he would just go get ice. He has ice machine radar.

When I get back to my room - at the same door I just left - I put the key in: green light! door doesn't open.

Slide card: green light! (flash of excitement).... door doesn't open.

This goes on at lease 12 more times. Finally it opens. This door was messing with me.

So... I do the unthinkable and hoist the ladies back into the bra... put on the only flat shoes I brought - which happen to be leopard print - they totally meshed with my green flannel pants and Razorback T that I stole from JD's T-shirt stash (why are his shirts always more comfortable? Why?) and I head, a little embarrassed that I needed to ask where the stinking ice machine is, to the front desk.

The front desk guy, who clearly loves his job, pretty much rolled his eyes at me and told me to go down a hall no where close to me and then turn right. And then turn right again. Hooray! Ice! Next stop: Ginger Ale. Easy. Done. Heading back to my room with Ginger Ale that I purchased for as much as I could buy a case of it, a bucket full of ice and water that was, apparently, made from unicorn juice because it too was overpriced. I didn't care. I had what I came for.

This time I'm trying the inside door - the other door - facing the lobby. I slide the card. Red light. Red is bad, right?

Slide it again. Green!

no luck.

again, again, again.... green, red, green.....

This is ridiculous.

I go to the OTHER door. Hauling all of my goodies around past the front desk (this guy I KNOW was laughing at me) back to the service hall alllllllllllllll the way to the end where my door is.

slide, slide, slide, slide, SLIDE, SLIDE OH MY GOSH SLIDE. Lights are green. I'm intelligent enough to know that this HAS to be the way to get into my room... why isn't it working? Why am I still in the hallway with my leopard print shoes and freezing hands and MY BRA ON?

I just leaned against the door with my forehead for a minute.

I wasn't about to go around to the OTHER DOOR again.

Slide. GREEN LIGHT! I'M IN.

It only took me 43 minutes to get ice.