The other end of the Spectrum

So the other day, a major source of grief came from the fact that we left our door unlocked. So, in an effort to stop that sort of grief from happening again, me and Lisa have made it a point to lock our door.

The fates, however, are not supporting us in our desire for a grief free lifestyle.

This morning, as she tried to leave the apartment and go to work, Lisa realized that the deadbolt lock on our front door had broken. This means that the door cannot be opened. At all. Even with a key. Not be the hair on my chinny-chin-chin.

Luckily Lisa was able to crawl out the window, and make it to work on time, though I don't think that it was very brand. I am glad however that we do not live on the second or third floor, because Lisa's place of employment would be less mad that she was late because of the broken legs she received jumping from our third story window than they would be for her calling in because she was held captive in her own house.

I have been safely locked in our apartment all day, hoping that there is not a fire, or any other need to exit my house quickly, because I am out of shape, and climbing out of the window is a pain.

At least our spare DVD player and remaining Bond movies are safe.