Moving In and The Great Escape...

Well, I'm back at work and finally have access to a computer. The move went very well on Saturday. Had about 15 people from work come over and we had the U-haul unloaded in about 40 minutes, which was incredible. I was unpacked by Monday evening, and had just settled in for a lovely evening in my new place.

About midnight I noticed a message on my phone. It was my landlord reminding me that I needed to put my name on a card in my mailbox. So, I decided to go out and have a cigarette (I have made the interior of my apartment a smoke-free zone) and then go down to put my name card in the mailbox.

Now, let me explain the way this works. Balcony access is in the hallway outside my front door, and the front door on the first floor can only be opened with a key. (There are glass panes in the door, so a standard deadbolt is dangerous.)

So, I hopped out on the balcony in my flannel pants and flip flops. I smoked my cigarette and came back in to run downstairs. As I re-entered the hallway, I realized I needed my keys in order to open the front door, so I diverted back to my apartment to grab my keys...you see where this is headed?

Imagine my surprise when I found that I had locked my apartment door behind me.

Understand that this means I was effectively lock in the stairway. I could not open my apartment door, and I could not open the front door of the building. My only access to outside was the balcony.

So, between midnight and about 2:45 I tried everything imaginable to get back inside the apartment. I knocked on neighbors door, tried to get through the living room window...just about everything you could imagine...and I was finally confronted with the inevitable.

I swallowed back my extreme fear of heights...and jumped the balcony. Actually, I grabbed the railing, swung myself over and hung down until I could get my feet on the patio railing below me. Once free of my stairway prison, I was able, at 3:00 am, to run the block down to my landlord's house, and ring his doorbell...asking for a set of spare keys...

a very humbling experience...but my landlord was very nice about the whole thing and seemed mostly concerned that I was okay after having jumped the balcony.

For the most part I came through the experience unscathed. Only my ego and my upper arms are bruised. And I've managed not to repeat the scenario again so far.

Ah...life alone...I'd forgotten how much fun it was.