Debbie Does Drivel

It's been awhile since my house has done anything weird.
But it just did again.
I'm sitting in the office at the computer, contemplating my book's latest plot point.
I'm also trying to think of another word for "pointed," since one of my characters was in the process of doing so...
When, the door to the office slammed shut.
I mean SLAMMED. SHUT.
I thought it was Kevin screwing with me, but see, no one's home.
I jumped up to the door and heaved it open, which was hard, because it was sealed tight as a drum.
It's never, ever, ever done that before, even during high wind periods. The door tightly wedges against a poorly-placed dresser most of the time and is also a little warped, so doesn't shut all the way even on good days.
So, WHAT THE FUCK?

Last night must have been a harbinger. Kevin and I were both wakened by a rustling/clinking sound which catapulted us from sleep. Kev took a look around the house and couldn't find a thing. We checked on my sis, who was in a deep sleep, so nothing there. No. Explanation. For. The. Sound.

Is this some type of virtual training for my supernatural novel? Is some higher-force demanding I write what I know?
I'm creeped.

Now if the spooky windy force hurtles that vacuum cleaner out of the way -- the one currently holding the office door WIDE open -- I'll demand my book be a best-seller.