staying here

I live in a house surrounded by a concrete pad. Eight concrete steps lead from the pad up to the driveway and the carport.

Yesterday the painters painted the pad and the steps, and as they finished, it began to rain. It's been raining for sixteen hours, and the paint is still sticky. The only way to exit the house is through the slider onto the deck. From there I can walk down the stairs and down the path to the cottage, below which is impenetrable tropical vegetation.

I didn't think about the consequences of painting the concrete pad and steps. That I can't leave the property except by clambering across to a neighbor's yard. I don't know the neighbors. That means I can't easily reach my car. I should have gone grocery shopping because I'm down to a few eggs and a half a package of fake crab. Even the bread is gone.

I'm claustrophobic. My thesis is due in nineteen days. Did I mention it's raining?

This, too, shall pass.