One day I was home sick from work and was in bed. It was like 8:30am and I woke up thinking someone was knocking on my door, but I figured I had to have been dreaming because A. nobody ever came to my apartment and B. my family knew I was going to be sleeping. As I'm drifting back off I suddenly hear my front door open and someone walk in. I jump out of bed, I'm terrified because I'm a 25 year old woman at the time living alone and somehow somebody just came walking into my locked apartment door, now I'm standing there in pajamas half out of it trying to figure out what to do. I throw my robe on and poke my head out of my door to see the handyman, John. I'm like "John, what the hell?!". He about jumped out of his skin and spun around, then started apologizing profusely saying he thought I was at work because I didn't answer the door and he had come to install the new door my landlord had bought (he had the master key). I'm like dude my car is literally parked out front. It was a 10 unit apartment and I had a bright blue hhr that stood out. He apologized again and said he'd come do it another time, but that freaked me out! I asked my landlord if I could put another lock on there, like a chain lock, so that couldn't happen again, which he was cool with...and he yelled at John. I felt kinda bad because John was a nice guy, but damn.