Nightmare.

I am really trying to live a simple, quiet life.  I really am not trying to court danger and mishaps.  But I guess as a clumsy artist with an active imagination, sometimes, I find myself, tangled.

                                                          This morning was perfect.

The afternoon was perfect as well.

The evening began on a perfect note.  The plumber showed up, on time!  It's his 3rd trip this week, and he's now fixed the heating in my flat! 

Then I went into day-dreamy mode, and wrote the previous post because I could not get the happiness nor thrill of this morning's ride out of my head and limbs.  I fixed dinner, fed Bruno, and all I could think of was the feeling of flight.

After I finished my writing exercise, I took Bruno out for his last walk.  I was still in a day-dreamy state.  I forgot my boots, walked him in slippers and socks.  When he was done, we climbed up the stairs to our building.  Fantastic.  I forgot my keys.

9:15pm, Thursday night.  Bruno and I are locked out.  I have no keys, no purse, no cellphone.  

Plan A:  Go to the Mama Store across the street and ask for help.  The old lady that mends the cash register once complimented Bruno and my hair.

Plan B:  Go to the Japanese Restaurant on the same side of the street and ask for a ladder.  Scale ladder onto the roof of the restaurant.  Next, scale pipes and shared wall a la Angelina Jolie.  Climb in through the kitchen window.  Retrieve keys.

I cross the street.  

Folks at the Mama Store don't quite understand my English.  

"Locksmith?"  Long pause, strokes chin.  

I ask them to call the police.    "The Police?!!!" A phone is handed to me instead.

I call the police (999).  I explain my situation.  The police takes my details and tells me they can't help me.  I ask the police if they can just come and kick open my door.  I am told that is not a good idea.  The dragon directs them to suggest a solution.  The police says- call a locksmith.  The dragon slides away and the fake damsel says, please help me call a locksmith.  Bravo, I am put on hold, and next I hear someone saying he will be here in 15 minutes.

Bruno and I sit on the stairs and wait.  We are cold.  Half an hour later, the locksmith arrives.  I see the neighbor on the ground floor watching television.  After a few tries, we get his attention and he opens the front door for us.  The locksmith runs up the stairs, shoves some kind of sheet and tries to jig the door open.  No luck.  He removes his leather jacket.  He heads back to his van.  It's gonna be a long night.

10:45pm.  Perfect.

Right.  So he had to drill holes, use the axe, use some kind of wire, use a hammer, use another drill.  

It was a (noisy) nightmare for him and I.   But, now I am home.  And oh, I met the neighbours.