You finally get home after a long day, and you reach into your pocket to grab your keys. You're so close to making yourself some dinner, kicking your feet up, and calling it a night except...wait, where are your keys? You know you had them! You distinctly remember feeling them in your pocket all day. Maybe if you dig deeper....Nope, still nothing! You jiggle your door knob as though you can open it just by sheer force of will, but of course it doesn't work because you're not a genie. For some reason, you can't accept your current fate so you go back to searching your pockets in hopes that......I dunno, someone snuck them back into your pocket when you weren't paying attention? It's possible. You repeat this process a couple times before you finally accept the truth: You're locked out.
God, this is embarrassing. You wish there was another way but there isn't. You text your roommate and ask them when they'll be home, and as the text sends, you send off a little bit of your pride as well. Why does this feel so shameful? Who the hell knows, but it does. You sit staring at your phone waiting for a response like a dog waiting for its owner to come home now. You are no better than a dog right now. You let out a little whimper when they tell you they'll be a while and won't be able to let you in until they get home. Shit.
Welp. Now all you can do is wait, so you sit by your door and hunker down. You look pathetic right now. You wouldn't be surprised if your neighbors tried to give you spare change as they walked on by you because...actually shit, you forgot about your neighbors. You REALLY hope they don't see you like this. They'll either take pity on you and awkwardly try to invite you into their place for some awkward conversation, or they'll be suspicious of you and think you're trying to break into your own apartment because that's basically what you're doing. You look at your hallway and come to terms with the fact that this is your life now. Until you can get into your real home, this is your home.
As you sit helplessly by your door, you don't have much else to focus on so you start to focus on the door itself. Every creak and grumble you hear sends your mind racing. Was that your dog moving or did a rat just break in and start a grease fire? You're helpless to stop it either way. You being to make a mental checklist of everything that could possibly go wrong, and it's not long before you've basically decided that it's all happening right now. You lowkey panic and each passing moment that you can't get in starts to feel a little bit longer than the last.
When your roommate finally gets home it's anticlimactic. Nothing you panicked about came true, of course, and all that was waiting for you on the other side was the same old apartment you come home to everyday. At least you get to take your shoes off now. You sit on your couch and feel a familiar feeling on your ass. Turns out your keys were in your BACK pocket. If only you had checked 10 times instead of 9.