It's just an ordinary day

It was a hot and muggy day, just like any other day in May... or perhaps it isn't hot and muggy at all and just feels that way because I feel like a balloon. Either way, there was nothing abnormal about today.

Andrew was at work and I was desperately trying to unlock the door to the Stake Offices. I had some newsletters I needed to photocopy. The Primary Presidency wants the newsletters distributed tomorrow at church. I didn't get any articles until late yesterday afternoon. That gives me a little more than 24 hours to get a whole newsletter finished. Luckily I designed the template long ago so, as Andrew would say, it was really just "plug and play." The copy fitting is horrendous--mostly because I didn't do any copy fitting, but it doesn't look too shabby for not really having anytime to work on it. I finished it around 2:00 this afternoon and headed over to the stake center to make copies.

So, there I am at the Stake Center wearing a bright yellow t-shirt, trying to unlock the door. I'm pretty sure I was there for about 10 minutes, turning the key this way and that, trying to remember if there was some trick about opening the door. I said a quick prayer and continued my door-unlocking attempts.

Just when I was thinking, "Gee, I'm glad that this door is kind of out of sight, around the corner, behind a wall and some trees so that no one can see how hard this is for me..." two motorcyclists zipped around the corner.

They waved at me. I waved back, then turned around and pretended that perhaps I had just taken the keys out of my purse and was in the process of inserting the key into the lock for the very first time. I thought I pulled off that act pretty well, but still can't open the door, so I'm fumbling around with the lock again when I hear the motorcycles coming around the corner again, only this time they are super-duper loud.

I turned back around to see close to 50 bikers driving past the church. This is odd, because they are in the parking lot of the stake center and they all look kind of like Hulk Hogan. It's not really something you see everyday.

And then there's me. I'm standing by the door, looking like an idiot, I'm sure. A seven-month-pregnant idiot who can't open doors.

Zip, zip, wave, go the bikers, and I timidly wave back, glad that none of them seem to want to stop and chat or ask for directions.

I continue to stand there like an idiot trying to think of how better to not look like an idiot. Really, what was I going to do?

I can't go into the church because I can't open the door. I can't really walk away because if I tried that I probably would be run over by a couple dozen motorbikes. So I just stand there, stare, and wave at however many Hulks wave at me.

It was kind of like a parade, only a lot more awkward.

Finally, their "finale" car drove around the corner, and the roar of the engines faded off into the distance.

"Hmmm," I hmmmed to myself, musing that the driver of the car also looked like Hulk, while I decided to give the door one more try.

Presto! The door opened without a problem. Why couldn't it have done that 15 minutes ago? I asked myself. I went into the office and made my copies, back to my ordinary day in May.

As I was pondering the complete unordinariness of the last five minutes, I remembered my prayer. If that was an answer to prayer though, it was the strangest answer I've ever gotten. I was personally hoping that the missionaries or Stake President would happen to stop by and offer to open the door for me. But if a motorcycle gang will do the trick, why not?

The only thing I can figure is that they distracted me enough to give me time to calm down. Anyone who knows me knows I can't do anything right if I'm flustered, and I was certainly getting that way about the door.

I didn't know we had a motorcycle gang in Utah though...maybe they were just passing through.