You know how sometimes there are simply no words to explain something?
Do you ever sit there in amazement over how or why certain things seem to happen to you and you have no idea why?
You’re a good person, you work hard, you’re a good daughter/sister/auntie and friend.
Well, I asked myself these questions late on Sunday after what turned out to be a very bizarre evening.
So here’s what happened. My partner Matt and I were doing our usual Sunday night routine of watching TV on catch-up, generally relaxing and getting ready for the week ahead (for me, another week in London).
It was about 10pm when I went to open the door that separates the lounge from the kitchen, but it wouldn’t budge.
So I tried again. Nothing. The door was jammed shut.
When it became clear this door was not moving, something dawned on me.
Not only was it rather odd that the thing was jammed solid, I also realised that not only could we not get into the kitchen, but we couldn’t get out of the house because the kitchen leads to the front porch and front door.
We couldn’t climb out of the window and go round and try to open the front door because, guess what? Well, our house keys are on a hook in, yes, the kitchen.
All of a sudden Matt came down the stairs in just a pair of trainers and nothing else – literally – and started slamming himself against the door.
He was naked except for a pair or bright blue trainers and throwing himself at a wooden door (to no avail, I might add).
It was all very bizarre. As Matt continued to look like some sort of crazed naturist in our lounge (which by the way has no curtains up), I sat there pondering how these weird things seem to happen to us.
In the end we resorted to calling our friend Russell, who still has a key to our house.
He had to come over at 10.30pm on a Sunday night and take the lock off the door to let us out.
It brought a new meaning to the term ‘feeling like a prisoner in your own home’!