Is there a locksmith in the house?!

I have regrettedly not blogged about my lockout woes, but surely tonight...it's overdue. About a month ago I was having trouble getting into my front door. Ahem....my only door. So I called my GLORIOUS landlords (I apologize for the dripping sarcasm. Oh wait...no I don't.) They sent over a 'super' which I must say is a severly overdramatized title. 'SUPERman' told me there was nothing wrong with the lock, that my hinges were loose. (If I had a nickle...) After tightening my hinges and redrilling my lock (KEEP YOUR HEADS OUT OF THE GUTTER!!) he went on his merry way. A couple weeks later, my problems resurface.

It was a Saturday and I had been doing laundry at my mom's house. Let's first begin by recapping the scene up to the lockout incident. a)I slept at my mom's house the night before so I hadn't been home to shower. b)I was wearing my pajamas which due to it being laundry day consisted of snowflake flannel pants and a bright green "Cuban Soul Revival" t-shirt from Old Navy. c)In an attempt to leave my mothers house my car got stuck in a snow drift thanks to the blizzard that rolled through. After spending an hour and a half digging Dory out of the snow and mud, my previously GOREGOUS jammies were soiled from the feet to the knees. d)Three words- Lack Of Makeup

I drove home, looking and feeling frigid and utterly untouchable. I arrive home, hoping to scurry in the door before any neighbor could see me. I insert the key, wiggled its magical, imaginary combination of jiggles (not Giggles Cait, Jiggles) and nothing. The key does not budge. I yank on the door knob, slam my full body weight into the door itself, and nothing. Lucky for me there just so happens to be yet another 'SUPERman' across the parking lot. I flash him a brilliant no-makeup-haven't-showered-wearing-my-pjs smile and ask him kindly to open my door. He comes over with a huge ass pair of pliers and miraculously is able to open my door. He comes back about 30 minutes later and installs a new deadbolt. He hands me a shiny new key, which I assume means the problem is fixed. WRONG.

Five days later I am still having problems with my door. BUT, with my new work schedule throwing off my sleep schedule, I keep forgetting to call 'SUPERman' back.

This brings us to the present. I got off work at 11 o'clock this evening and drove home. I wanted nothing more than to get home where it was warm so I could curl up in bed and SLEEP. I inserted the key, once again wiggled its magical, imaginary combination of jiggles and...nothing. This time, the stupid key doesn't even PRETEND to want to turn. I'm getting increasingly pissed as I dial my moms phone number to tell her I'll be sleeping on her couch again. Just then, the hunky guy who lives upstairs happened to walk by. He overheard my pitiful plight as he was taking his shhhh...hideous....dog for a pee. He came back and offered to help. He attempted to unlock the door too. If it had opened, I was totally going to say, "Yeah, well, I loosened it for ya." Of course, Hunky was unable to get it either. Instead of leaving me there, Hunky went to get a pair of pliers and his cell phone. He tried to pry the door open and did nothing more but succeed in breaking my key off in the lock. Yeah, thanks Hunky. I coulda done that withoutcha. He was nice enough to call the emergency 'SUPERman' line and attempt to get someone to help me. He even admitted to them that he was a moron and broke my key. After two attempts to call and leaving messages I decide I'll just go to my moms and worry about this in the morning. Hunky offers to let me come up to his place (with shhh...his hideous dog, and his girlfriend) but I opted for mom's. OF COURSE, knowing my luck, as soon as I got all the way to mom's the manager of my apartment complex calls and tells me that no one can come let me in for another hour, minimum. I tell her not to worry, that I'll stay at my mothers. She calls me back 5 minutes later, "Can you be here in 30 minutes?" Well, hell. I bundle up and jaunt back across town only to sit in my car for 20 minutes...in the dark...in the cold. This SUCKED. Hunky came out to check on my every few minutes though, so that was nice. 'SUPERman' arrived and spent a good 30 minutes attempting to extract the broken key before he pulls out the crow bar and begins to dismantle my door. Okay, not dismantle, demolish. He shoves the crow bar in the door jam and then throws his body weight into my door repeatedly until the door frame literally splinters and bursts open. Now, I have a broken lock AND a broken door. Thaaaanks. He spends another 30 minutes or so screwing the splinters back together to fashion some semblance of a door. He installs a new lock and once again...hands me a new key. He promises to come by tomorrow to finish making the door "solid" but I have a feeling it'll end up looking about like my ceiling. In May, that was going to made "solid" too... Riiight.

But here I am, warm and cozy in my house...
with a large piece of furniture shoved in front of my door. Just in case.