I hate getting up to run at 5 a.m. and finding that my key suddenly isn't opening the gym door. But there's somebody already in there, you can hear their beeping treadmill, so you stand outside the door, hoping that he or she catches a glimpse of your beady 5 a.m. eyes in the mirror, takes mercy, and opens the door. That doesn't happen. So then you march yourself down to the desk and announce your key is broken and the lady goes, "Well, baby, we ain't got no engineer 'til 7."
Is the engineer really going to fix my key? Really? Something tells me no.
So now it's 6 a.m. And what I'm really mad about is that today marks my third trip to the DMV. Hello, fun.