Wednesday, rubbish collection day; my weekly exercise run schlepping the bin bags downstairs to put them at the kerb for the binmen to come and take them away. And this morning, one of them had a hole in it, and left a trail of kitty litter. As I was on my way to work, I debated for a minute whether to leave it or go back and clean it up, then decided I couldn't very well leave the incriminating evidence leading right back to my front door, got back indoors to get a dustpan, put my purse down (this is important!), swept up the mess, and walked right out into the street to deposit the stuff in the gutter...and didn't realise my mistake until I heard the entrance door to the complex slam shut behind me. There I was, at 6:15 a.m. standing outside my building on the pavement, holding a dustpan; and my keys, money, travelcard and mobile phone were on the other side of the bloody door!
My Mum's got a spare set of keys. I could walk over to her house; that would only take me about an hour to reach. I looked up at my neighbours' windows: all the curtains were still drawn. I decided to wait until one of them would come down to go to work, and open the door for me. I didn't think it would take more than 2 hours for that to happen!
Well, at least it wasn't raining. I would have hated that. So I hung around, trying my best to loiter suspiciously, but unfortunately no one had the presence of mind to call the police. Some people passed by walking their dogs, but no one seemed to think it was all that odd to see a woman holding a dustpan in the street, looking up at windows to see if anyone's awake yet. Went through my repertoire of CoRo songs in my head, and sat down before I fell.
"You poor lamb! Why didn't you ring the doorbell, get me out of bed?", my neighbour asked. Duh! (Why didn't I?)