Felony: Breaking and Entering OR Nicole has an Adventure

Last night, at approximately 12:15am (which, technically, was earlier today, but you know what I mean), I broke into the empty flat next door - through a partly open window (hence I didn't do any property damage). It was pretty darn exciting. Now I'm a felon! I'm BAD. Don't mess with me :-). Hmmm, maybe felons don't do smiley faces : # (that's me using profane language).

OK, OK, I'm not a convicted felon - yet. I wasn't arrested and I wasn't accosted by the fuzz - although I was kind of hoping the police would see me 'cos I was in my pyjamas and my reason for breaking in was fairly reasonable: I thought the empty flat might catch on fire. There were 2 lights on in the lounge room even though the flat has been vacant for a couple of weeks. The owners are going to do some maintenance before they rent it out again, so I guess they had the electricity reconnected. I noticed that the lights were on a few nights ago and became a little concerned that they, or the roof, or the wiring, might overheat and catch on fire. I was debating whether or not to ring the landlord and tell him, but hesitated due to a concern that I was being ridiculous. (I still think it was a reasonable fear, you hear about electrical fires that "started in the roof").

It all came to a head just before midnight last night as I lay awake in bed trying to decide if I could smell something burning. I told myself I was just imagining it, but, of course, it doesn't matter what I tell myself because I never listen. So I got up, put a jumper on over my nightie, pulled on my tracky-daks, put on my runners, tied up my hair, got a torch and headed out into the still night, fulling expecting to find a blazing fire in the lounge room of the flat next door. I peered into the window, no fire. There was definitely a burning smell in the air. I couldn't locate the source of the smell, but decided it wasn't connected with the flat. Still, I wasn't happy. This lack of fire didn't preclude the flat from catching fire at 4am, whenst I would be sound asleep. Or, indeed, wide awake, still worrying about a possible fire. Alas, only one thing was going to enable me to sleep: the bloody lights were going to HAVE to be switched off. Thankfully, one of the windows hadn't been latched properly and I was able to pull it open enough to get my hand inside and wind the lever to open the window (had this not been the case I may well have broken a window or rung my landlord right then, at 12:15am!). I was able to hoist myself in through the window ('cos I'm such a badass) and, MERCIFULLY, switch off the lights!!! Yeah! Although, before I switched off the lights, I has a quick look around the flat (which is a mirror image of my flat, or, for those who've studied Organic Chemistry, an enantiomer).

Then I climbed back out of the window, closed it as best I could and bolted back inside my flat, noting the bemused expression on the face of Ms Willow Pussycat who was perched on the windowsill watching my antics. It was all very exciting. If I were a drinking woman, I would've poured myself a whiskey to celebrate, but, since I'm on the wagon, I poured myself a glass of milk (and drank it) and ate a mint slice. Then I went to bed. And fell asleep. Being an outlaw is tiring.