The Grand House Burglary

22 Jun

I often have moments where I predict the future. This is a wild statement, I know, but something that is the truth. Yesterday, while hard at work sifting through over two weeks of emails, I had a ‘inhale deeply through your nose in worry’ moment. It had nothing to do with my inbox, but more that I had just got THE FEAR. THE FEAR is my irrational feeling that something completely unfounded has happened, and after being mocked for these fears in the past, I have learnt to suppress them. I don’t know why, as my fears are normally spot on. Like sitting up in the middle of the night and saying to boyfriend “Did you leave the door on the latch when you came to bed? I’m sure you did.” “No I didn’t” boyfriend replied. “Go and check anyway, I know im right” After much protesting, boyfriend goes and checks, and finds out that THE FEAR has been proved correct, and I am smug and asleep.
So when THE FEAR floated into my nostrils yesterday, I had a premonition that boyfriend had given his set of keys to the lettings agent. This wouldn’t normally be a problem, but I may have sort of misplaced my set, and when I got the set cut, only got the top lock key done. As a result, we never lock the bottom. So boyfriend is the only one who owns such key, as he works in a bank so has to be very sensible, and therefore trusted.
I resisted the urge to call him, as I didn’t want THE FEAR to be wrong, instead I made myself a brew and got back on with my day.
But lo and behold, when we got home, the door was locked on both locks, and we were therefore locked out of the house. We contemplated putting a brick through the window, and tried to jimmy a credit card between the window to flick the catch off and let ourselves in. I was getting suitably worked up, as I was desperate for the loo and i had one cat inside, throwing itself madly at the window and howling, and another outside, looking pitifully at me for locking it out in the first place when I couldn’t find it that morning ( but my cats plan to make me late for work every morning is a story to be told another time). Eventually, I talked boyfriend into going next door to nice neighbours (and not satan’s children on the other side who hate cats) to borrow a tool. I didn’t specify which type of tool, as that would demonstrate my severe lack of knowledge on man equipment, so vaguely explained, while waving arms, that it was man stuff and we needed man tools. Boyfriend came back with nice neighbour, in pajamas, and crow bar. Eek. The window was popped open, and i was pushed through to go and open the rarely used front door. good plan, but it meant moving the massive sofa from in front of it, and shimmying around like a contortionist.
The worry for me was that many people walked past, but no one asked what we were doing, or called the police. Note to self, secure windows properly before going out, as the neighbours wont win the neighbourhood watch award for savvy burglary spotting this year.
It may seem irrational, but what annoyed me the most was when boyfriend went in this morning to get the key back, lettings agent told him that the reason she had locked the bottom lock was that it was definitely locked. Nice one sweetheart, although I very cunningly havent told you I have lost the key, I know by no uncertain terms it wasnt locked, unless you sneaked in after I had gone to work and locked it. I wasnt born yesterday, so please do one. Thank you kindly.

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