Locked Out or In

In a way, both actually. You will see my dilema soon enough.
I had a humble test of endurance yesterday morning. The little and outlandish locale I reside now maintains regular refrigertion temperatures ie. between 1 & 5 degrees Celcius. So, it is very unlikely for me to venture outside the warm confines of the centrally heated apartment.
However, the MET does a good job at predicting weather out here, and the forecast of a partly sunny day shone through the venitian blinds. I warmed up my cup of sweetened milk, put on my flannel pullover (just in case a wayward breeze blew my way), and got out into the gallery in my pyjamas and brown Tigger feet warmers.
I soaked in the bright sun which had filled the living room with brilliance without the shield of the transperant shield. While sipping on my chocolate brew, I looked at the smooth asphalt parking ground and wondered what it had be like if I had to ever jump down in case of an emergency like a fire. These thoughts sure had never occured to me while I spent nearly three decades 40 feet above ground-level (maybe because jumping down was not an option there).
Anyways, so from there, thoughts lingered to other deadening themes. At some point I heard a dull click at the balcony door, but thought nothing of it. It had been long since I got so much of warmth wadded out to me.
Once I had slurped up the last drop from the mug, I turned to get back into the living room. But the door wouldn't budge. Oh O! In a flash I remebered some wiseness I had been imparting to my partner over the weekend about keeping doors locked when we left the apartment to go out. He had jested, "The thief will be ashamed of stealing from us. All we got is two ancient deceasing laptops." I had however gone ahead and turned that little knob for auto-lock.
And now, I was locked outside! In a fraction of milli-second (if that were possible) I had a series of scenes playing in the head. Firstly, I had to try and grab some attention. If you saw the view from the balcony, you'd realise that this was futile. This neighborhood is unruffled at most hours of the day, as well as night. There are four independent houses, whose garage's face the apartment complex.
Then, I thought about the weather, and how long I could bear it. I knew that I had absolutely no options in this matter. It is officially winter (even the clocks have been turned an hour ahead), and I will just have to grit it out. When I looked upon the sky, it was a clear blue. The sun seamlessly streaming upon everything. This made me glad. I would be able to bask, atleast until mid-day. Then, I tried to establish the time. The sunrays were still slanted, so it could not be any later that 8.45-9 am. To keep the mind engaged, I mapped out where the shadows would draw at approximately every hour. I must bluster, I have a knack for telling the approximation of time. With this established, I moved on to absorb the head to another direction. Since I'd just had a breakfast (milk equates breakfast for me), I decided to take a stroll. Everytime I got to the corner where the sunrays failed to touch, there was a little chill. I began to realize that the warmth must be kept at all times, since there was no telling when I'd be 'rescued' from here.
I began to do some warm-ups and stretches. It had occured to me that whenever I finally did get into the warm enclosure of the house, I'd be stiffened with the cold. So might as well keeptak the blood flowing. That done, I then sought my next activity of engagement.
I toyed with the idea that the bedroom door might just be unlocked. I forced it, but it wouldn't budge. I surely wasn't strong enough, nor did I have anything close at hand that could break the glass, except lots of cardboard boxes. I fancied myself with the idea of constructing a shelter, like HoBo's they show in the rough areas of London.
That done, I tried to peer into the house to ascertain the time. While I had been busy day-dreaming, fluffs of cotton had spread across the sky, and a grey cloud had hidden away my sunshine. But I was not too perplexed since I had checked the weather only the day before, and it had said 'sunny day' with highs of 10 & lows of 1. So bright sun = 10 degrees, shade = 5 degrees? (I sure hoped so!)
I picked up two pieces of cardboard and sat myself against the wood railing, contemplating a jump. It was cold, so I knew I wouldn't be able to bear the pain of a twisted ankle. My best bet would be to tie the sleeve of my pullover to the railing, hang on and drop myself to a softer fall. But then what? I wouldn't even have a jacket. And would be quite a site in my paper-thin pyjama suit & Tigger chappals. May just get stoned. Then again, there was no one around to stone me!
The shadows grew longer, time passed slowly. I assumed 10 am, then 10.15 am had passed. Would anyone ever pass on this road? The glimmer of hope was growing fainter.
A slight breeze had picked up. That brought the chill back in the air. Now I was standing at the far-end of the balcony for maximum sun-exposure. The shadows told me it would be 11.30 am now. I had shut off most of the insane thoughts out (like freezing to death), and calm now reigned over my mind. I would be very sick by the time my partner got home in the evening, about 6-7 hours later, but that was the worst-case scenario. More likely-hood was that I would find someone walking by and tell them my plight, and get them to call him.
This is when my lucky-star shone upon me. My partner came home! He had emailed me, and also tried calling. Receiving no response, he decided to hop back home to check up on me. And as suspected, had found me sitting pat in the middle of a (cold) soup.
So what's your judgement here - did I get locked in or locked out?