This is for Jackie

Let's get it on the table right now. I am shallow. Which means if you read my blog AND like it AND tell me you like it by either comment or email, I will probably love you in an irrational way. I'm not fishing for compliments, more saying if you compliment me I am putty and I admit it. Which is one of the first steps. Let me go ahead and bang this story out (since you asked so nicely Jackie!) because I'm doing a double-shift at the restaurant today (I have always wanted to use that sentence). Last Monday Bud left for one of his business trips which I was not thrilled about but getting more used to. Becoming more brave with staying home alone if you will. Tuesday night I had tucked the dogs into bed (yes, literally, Sadie sleeps under the covers in the guest bed, Copper generally picks from a few different places) and moseyed into our bedroom to change into my pajamas. I guess now, it was in normal female over-alertness that I looked out of our sliding glass door. Like the trusting idiot that I am, I had the blinds only half closed, allowing that creepy middle of the road vision inside and out. I could see 2 inch slivers of window and 2 inch slivers of blinds, alternately. What I saw looked like a figure standing outside the door. Something to remember - to get to our bedroom patio door, you have to climb over a wall, it sort of sits in a window well. I squinted my eyes because, no, this is too much like a movie, stop being so dramatic Hope. BUT NO. A PERSON. A HUMAN PERSON (probably a man, let's be honest) and worst part? When he caught me looking at him, he got still as a statue. Oh really? You think if you get really still I won't SEE YOU? Like I am a Tyrannosaurus Rex and can only detect movement?! I jumped towards the window (for some bizarre and unusually ballsy reason) to pull the blinds when, faster than I have ever seen anyone move, he hauled ass over the wall and ran like the weasel he is. Have you ever had your heart pound SO fast you can hear it in your ears? I'm sure. I was deaf as I grabbed the phone out from under my pillow (where I keep it when Bud is gone) and called 911. About halfway through the conversation, the dispatcher told me I was being very calm about the whole thing. No, not calm, scared into COMPLETE OBLIVION is a better way to put it. The policeman who came to the house was very nice and looked around the perimeter for me and then said, "I don't see any concrete evidence but, and I'm not trying to scare you, there have been several incidences of break-ins and peeping Toms in this area," Yes, everyone, that is what he said. Followed by, "if I were you, I would just plan for scenarios like this - for instance, how would you react if someone broke down your front door?" HOW WOULD I REACT? I WOULD CURL UP INTO A PUDDLE AND WET MYSELF, THAT'S HOW. I'm sorry for all the caps BUT, and I think this is a truly appropriate situation for this phrase (sorry mom), WHAT THE FUCK? When Bud got home (two days early and two days after I'd been staying at our friend's apartment) I got shotgun lessons in the living room. I also called management and told them I just couldn't live here anymore. I know, I know I can't move from each and every apartment or house I have when I get scared but that, that's just not worth it. On the happy side! We're moving to a bigger apartment, second floor and the complex is farther out of the way/off the road. After the horror that is moving is over, I think we (read: me) will be much happier.