Parking woes

Olwen and I had a new experience this morning. I couldn't get out of the car.

You see, we have a rather cramped little parking lot, and the blue sparkly convertible I generally park next to was over its line. I park normally: "I can do it!" But I couldn't, of course. I opened the door, thought skinny thoughts, and tried. One foot made it out. I thought skinnier thoughts! I squeezed! I made a serious and determined effort not to get white paint on the blue sparkliness next door! And I was definitely not able to get out.

Ah, well. I moved Olwen over--rather to the bemusement of the parking lot guard--and got myself out and up and to work. The moral of the story is that sparkly blue convertibles ought to stay in their own parking spaces.