...

YOU CAN'T HEAR IT, OF COURSE, Reader Dear, but I'm heaving a great big sigh. It's a small show of resignation (I regret to inform you) that my woefully woeful Wednesday was followed today by a thoroughly thwarted Thursday! (There were numerous words I wished to use for description [thwrotten, thwretched and good-grief-tear-my-hair-out-lousy, just to name a few], but I thought better of it).

Do you recall how I told that plumber attending to the leaky pipe in the woeful apartment, "Just leave the door unlocked! The painter is coming tomorrow..."?

Well, I did!

(Okay, so maybe I forgot to tell you what I told the plumber; I can't pass along every little detail, you know, Reader Dear!) Come to think of it, I also most likely never mentioned the apartment is vacant now; I got that tenant out just as the locksmith was working his magic on the doorknob. Her final words: "Those three chairs are Shana's, wherever she is--we're still not speaking. Oh, and there's a leak underneath the bathroom sink."

(I wasn't so flustered by the chairs. They were almost as easily disposed of as the two large bottles of ketchup in the fridge.)

So, anyway, "Keep the door unlocked; I want to save myself a trip in the morning!" That's what I'd said to the plumber yesterday as he took away the leak.

But, oh, plans were thwarted! At the crack of dawn (or soon thereafter) my little white business phone was loudly ringing. The painter was calling..."This door is locked!"

In my groggy voice I said, "I'll be right over!" I was scrambling into my clothes as I talked. "I asked the plumber to leave the door open, but I guess he forgot."
"Well, the strange thing is," said the painter, "it's the deadbolt that's locked."
"Whaaat?" I had to stop dressing for a moment while this sank in. "That can't be! It's a brand-new key! I'm the only one who's got it."
"Hmm, that's odd," said the painter. "Well, I've got to run out for supplies, so I'll come back after while when you've got it unlocked."

Thank goodness, I didn't have to rush. I took my time and arrived at the empty apartment a half-hour later. By that time I had scratched around in my brain and figured out one plausible way that the door could be locked--perhaps long ago I had given the plumber a master key. Of course, I didn't remember doing so, but...that would explain the locked deadbolt.

So I was pulling out my keys to unlock the door, and as I did so, I was turning the doorknob. By golly, the door was UNLOCKED!

This was just too odd.
I snatched my phone from my pocket and called the plumber. "What's going on?" I asked. "Were you here at this apartment where you fixed the leak yesterday? Do you have a master key? Did you lock the door? Did you UNLOCK the door?!"

"No, I left the door open," he said. "I don't have a key."

"Well, but....the deadbolt was locked when the painter got here! And now it is open..."

"Someone must have been inside," said the plumber. "How else would it have been locked?"

Ahhh....Well, of course! The certainty of the fact was creeping into my mind and creeping me out.

Fortunately, I didn't have long to wait for the painter's return. As he came in the door, I exclaimed, "Someone must have been here inside this apartment when you got here earlier!"

"I'm sure there was someone here!" he responded. Clearly, he had had this same idea all along. "I just had a sense of it, you know. I rang the doorbell and didn't hear a thing, but I somehow just knew that somebody was inside! I looked in the back window, and didn't see anyone --they stayed in the front room out of sight!"

Yes, of course, of course. I was quite convinced by now. (Why hadn't I thought of this myself?!) But WHO would have been here? Spending the night! Spending the night?! Who would have known it was open?" I pondered and puzzled. Even the painter seemed a little unnerved.

And then the worst of it started to sink in. "I'M PROBABLY NEVER GONNA KNOW!" I wanted to howl. "Oh, if you'd have just given me the tiniest hint of your suspicion!" I lamented to the painter. But I knew it was too late. He had driven away before I got there.
The intruder had taken his chance and unbolted and bolted.

It was just the beginning, Dear Reader...
all plans to get through this day in a smooth and efficient way were thwarted.
I'm not even going to mention that creature that's a landlord's anathema, but it starts with an "R"... I mean, it starts with a tenant bursting through the door as you're talking to the painter and telling you in frantic tones that he's phobic of bugs and HE JUST SAW A ROACH!

...