It is 9:30 at night and I am alone in the house. (Well, L is asleep upstairs, but I am the only adult in the house.) This is such an incredibly rare occurance that it deserved to be blogged about. S has an old high school friend in town so the two of them went to a spring training game. L and I stopped by a friends bbq earlier and then came home and he went straight to bed after a delicious bottle, some snuggling in the rocker and a quick lullabye.
There was a time in my life where I really enjoyed night alone. As much as I was always one to prefer going out then staying in, I liked those rare occassion where (back in high school) my parents were gone for the night and later in college all my roommates were out. I use to seize these oppurtunities to order in pizza, paint my nails, watch girly movies, and drink copius amounts of wine while reveling in "me time".
Not so much anymore.
Due to a very unfortuante incident when S and I lived in Flagstaff. (Late night break in, intruder in house while we slept, stolen car keys) I am now a nervous wreck anytime I am alone in the house after sundown. So much so that I can probably count on one hand the number of times S and I have been apart overnight since the incident. Now, when I am alone in the house, every noise is a potential prowler, or, more likely, a serial killer who is intent on kidnapping and torturing me and my baby. Despite the deliciously warm night air, every window in our house is locked up tight, every door bolted, while the tv is one it is muted (to better hear scary noises) and I writing this blog while curled on the couch with a sharp knife (only weapon availabe in house) on the table in front of me. Hey, you can never be too careful.
I miss the days of blissfull ignorance to the fact that there are people out there who actually will come uninvited into your home. Instead of enjoying a marathon movie session of "Mean Girls", "13 going on 30" and "Under the Tuscan Sun" I am mapping out all potention escape routes/hiding places and imagining who would play me in the lifetime movie about my harrowing ordeal. (I'm thinking Reese Witherspoon. She's older then me, but I feel we share similar bubbly traits and a cute hairstyle). And I won't stop this obviously unreasonable and obsessive train of thought untill my strong and handsome protector (A.K.A S) comes through the door.
I know, I know. I am completely paranoid. I am perfectly aware of this fact, no need to point it out to me. Doesn't change how I feel though.
So that's all for tonight. I have about 2 hours before S is home so I'm off to check the door and windows and see if I can track down our baseball bat. Just in case. Like I said, you can never be too careful.