The latest in the moving saga:  My garage hates me.

The new house has been a huge blessing.  Lots of room, a yard for the pets and the unpacking is almost done.


So with all of the good stuff happening, imagine my surprise when I got up to go to work this morning and the garage door wouldn't open.  "No problem," I think.  "I'll just use the emergency release."  Well, that didn't go quite as planned.  As I pulled the cord, I heard a POP! and my heart sank.
I look at the other door.  How do they put these things together?  Can I somehow maneuver my car to get out through the other door?  What happens if I can't get this thing open?
So I text work and tell everyone I'm probably going to be late.  Then I call one of the companies that works on these things.  "It may be tomorrow," they tell me.
"No!" I said.  "You have to get someone out here fast.  I have to get to work!"
The best they can do is promise that they'll try to get someone out in the afternoon.  Well, what can you do?  After I hang up, I get on top of my SUV and try to see what's going on.  Now if you've got a home theater system that needs installing, I'm your man.  If you need someone to look at your computer and help figure out why you're getting the blue screen of bet.  I'll give it a shot.  But mechanical stuff like this goes over my this case, literally!
After running the opener a couple of times, I finally see something that looks like a latch.  Finally, with grease on my hands, shirt and pants, I finagle this thing until I hear a promising "CLACK."  Holding my breath, I push the button on the opener.  "VRRRRRRRRR."  It opens!
Thirty minutes late, I arrive at work just in time to hear MIranda Lambert singing something about lighting 'em up and watching them burn...which is what I'm thinking of doing to this garage door.
And how was your Monday?