Oops.

Current Mood: good mood.
Currently Playing: Come on Shake your Body Baby, Do the Conga.

So yesterday, I was home in the afternoon doing my laundry and around 3 I went downstairs to get my clothes out of the dryer. When I come back up, my door wouldn't open. I mean, I had the key, but the door still wouldn't open. So, it's times like these that I think it's a good thing that I decided to be a writer, because this is my first thought-
Someone broke into my apartment, locked the top lock, and they're stealing all of my stuff, and then they're going to go down the fire escape.
Riiiiighhtt.. cause that's plausible. Going six floors down an fire escape with, oh, you know, TV, DVD player, computer, without being noticed. But you know what I did? I went outside and looked up the fire escape. No one was coming down. So I go back upstairs and try again. Door still won't open. So I go in the lobby and sit next to the elevator to wait for Rob to get home. Second thought-
They'll think I'm gone, and the only way out of the building is by the elevator or the stairs, so I'll see them trying to leave the building. Damn, my mom TOLD me to get renter's insurance, why didn't I get renter's insurance?
An hour goes by. Eventually, the people who live next door to me, this old retired couple in their sixties come down. I tell them what the problem is and so the guy's like, oh, this happens to us all the time, you just need to put graphite on the key. So he goes back up with me and tries to open it, but the graphite doesn't work. So he's like "Is your fire escape window open?" because we share a fire escape, and I'm like 'yeah, I just opened it." So yes, this sixty year old man goes into his house and climbs out onto the fire escape for me. Riiigghhht.. what I was thinking when he said 'fire escape window' was 'bathroom window', which also leads out to the fire escape. Turns out he said exactly what he meant to say. My fire escape window wasn't open, and there was no way in hell he could fit in my bathroom window. A sixty year old man climbed out on my fire escape for me and my window was locked. I'm a bad person.
Anyhow, at that moment, Rob gets home, they mess with the key for, oh, 2-3 minutes, and get it open. Then my neighbor says to me "How's your mom's foot?", and then I remember that they were here when my parents were visiting and my mom fell in the middle of the street and couldn't walk, so we rolled her around my apartment building in an office chair. So, basically, they think my whole family's crazy. It's cool.