Last night I woke up at 3am and it immediately registered that my apartment was VERY warm.
Like. Really hot.
I was out of bed before even fully cognizant — one of those “something is wrong” instinct moments.
I looked at the thermostat. It read: 88, 72. As in, 72 was the temp I had it set at, but it was 88 degrees inside.
Whhhattt? How is that even possible. I turned it off, but the hot air kept blasting. I opened the windows and sat googling (of course). Long story short, I ended up just closing my bedroom door and opening the windows, hoping that at least my bedroom would even out in temperature so I could sleep.
Five minutes later I realize I’m STARVING and can’t sleep. So I get up to go grab a snack and grab my doorknob only to realize... HULLO. My doorknob won’t turn. I had never shut my bedroom door before this moment and now, even after summoning all my macgyver resourcefulness, I WAS LOCKED IN MY OWN BEDROOM, very hungry and afraid to drink water in case it made me have to pee. I thought I must be actually still sleeping and having one of those helpless nightmares where you’re trapped and nothing goes right.
Fast forward to 8am and I’d slept a total of 5 hours, and hounded my property manager on enough messaging platforms so that my maintenance guy arrived by 8:30am. This sweet older man named Jose from Cuba was my rescuer, and while he fixed my furnace and thermostat and doorknob we had a great conversation half in Spanish about art and language and Latin America and travel. He was fascinating and kind and trustworthy and uplifting. Meeting Jose was probably the highlight of my whole day... so maybe, in the end, I’m not TOO upset about my midnight fiasco. 😂
Life is strange and surprising and quirky and funny. #beingmyownroommate #shenanigans #thestuffthathappenstome