There are times I would not believe my life if I was not living it myself
Finding oneself locked into one's own guest bedroom is not an event one prepares for.
House is from 1933. All the doors are original. None of them closed when I bought the place. I've replaced all the latches with same-period inserts and the original door hardware is still there. For 3 years this was no problem.
Tonight? Tonight I closed myself into the guest bedroom because it's also the office and the tea room, and the cat is not allowed into the tea room because he's convinced that somewhere there is catnip if he can only destroy enough to get at it. So leaving the door open is not an option.
Putter putter putter, tinker tinker tinker, done with project, go to turn door knob... and it turns and turns and turns and turns and I'm pretty sure it's gone all the way around and hey look at that it HAS gone all the way around and there has been a complete failure to engage the latch. And it goes around again. Oh fun. Now what?
Two windows. One goes out on top of the evillest thorniest (and best-smelling) rose bush ever. The other goes out on top of the giant thorny juniper bush. Did I mention I'm only wearing my pajamas? And that I don't know if my neighbors with my spare key are home from work? And that my parents live in another city? And that if I climb out the window, there is not a darn thing I can do to get back into my house because my purse is in the living room since, strangely enough, I was not anticipating needing my house key while going from room to room INSIDE my house?
And all the tools are in my bedroom and my basement and my garage. I have tools all over the place. I think I even have some in the kitchen. The guest bedroom? No tools. I could get the doorknob fixed with a flat head screwdriver. No screwdrivers in here. Folded over tea bag edges are not sturdy enough. (Yes I know this by empirical experimentation.) The wire hook on a hanging folder is too squiggly to twist correctly. (Also empirical experimentation.) No coat hangers for attempts at lock picking from inside to see if I can get at the latch. Headphone jacks do not substitute for coat hangers. What else have I got in here?
...well, it's the tea room. I have a teaspoon.
I broke out of my guest room with a TEASPOON.
I have since:
Breathed a huge sigh of relief that I didn't need to jump out the window in my pajamas into a thornbush and hobble across the cobblestone street barefoot and half-naked to the neighbors' house,
taken apart and repaired the lock, and
made damn sure that I have a flat-head screwdriver in there now.
...I should probably make sure I have a flat-head screwdriver in all the rest of the rooms, come to think of it.
I swear I wouldn't believe my life if I wasn't living through it.