And the hits just keep on coming...

So after talking to some of my friends about the impending flat sale, they reassured me that even if she does sell it to someone who will move in, the whole sale process will probably take several months, so I'll probably be good throughout the spring. That made me feel better. No use crying over what may or may not happen. Then I got home Friday...

I went out on Friday after work for what ended up being several beverages. At about 11:45 I rock up to my house, slightly intoxicated, to my landlord, and several members of the British Police Brigade. Awesome. I stumble, I mean, walk up the stairs and talk to my landlord. She tells me the flat below and above me got robbed, mine is fine. They didn't get in. It looked like they tried to bust the door, but then realized there was a deadbolt thrown (thank you dad - your obsession with security has paid off), so they just went to the girl below me. SHE was actually in the flat, asleep, (this was 9:30 on a Friday night), so she heard them, screamed and called the cops.

So I go up to my flat, go in, and give it the once over to make sure everything was fine. The cops came up and installed a padlock on the flat upstair's door because the locks were all completely shot. The cops (who were kind of laughing at my intoxicated state) enjoyed that I didn't seem too bothered about anything. They said when your neighbor gets home, tell him to call this number and we'll unlock it. I went in to my room and got in pajamas and tried to think as to whether or not I should be nervous to sleep in the building. I tried calling my friend who I was out with earlier, but he had also been slightly intoxicated and didn't answer his phone. I decided that it was a good thing I was drunk because I wasn't freaking out, and just decided to sleep in my own place.

About 5 minutes later I get a knock on the door. Its my polish neighbor from upstairs.

"Uh, yes, hello. Can you please to tell me what happened?"

"OH. MY. GOD! I have SOOO much to tell you! COME IN! Have a seat! Ok so here's the deal. Basically I went out with my friend tonight and I rock up to the house and its none other than the motherfreaking PO PO greeting me! I mean, how crazy right? OMG, how rude. Do you want a beer?"

So I get him a drink, finish telling the story and then we call the police. It was quite the bonding experience. By 1:30 I was finally in bed.

The next morning, I hear the girl downstairs talking with the polish man, so I open the door and start talking to them too. The girl downstairs (I think her name is Fran or something), looks at me and said, so I heard you were a little drunk last night. Do you have a hangover?

SERIOUSLY? Who are you? Who says that? I wanted to reply, no I don't have a hangover, thanks for asking. I do, however, have a life, which is why I was out on a Friday night. Maybe if you got yourself one of those you wouldn't be freaking out right now about having your flat broken into when you were there.

Yes, so that was my Friday. Never a dull moment!