Things That Go Bump In The Night

I lived on my own for four years. On my very own. No roomates, no sleep over boyfriends. Just me and my cat, the little Etsmobile. And never was I afraid of sleeping alone. Now I live with Jay and without fail everytime he goes away on business I work myself up into a scare. I hear noises, I hear voices and then Oliver goes bonkers and barks at the front door.

I check under the bed, I check and recheck the locks, the windows the doors. And I even turn the night light on in the hallway. I clench my fists and prepare myself for being violently awoken by someone in my room in which I will pummel them with said fists and make them wish they never entered my domain.

It's not like I am without safty measures. I have Etnie. No one is getting past him without some sort of warning. Anyways, the point is.

I don't like it. I hate the fact that I get spooked when I'm all by myself. Sure the guy who was on my balcony at four in the morning could have propelled this fear a little. but still!

I am a grown woman. I shouldnt be afraid of the boogeyman.

Sometimes I wonder if I screamed bloody murder would my pothead neighbors come to my rescue?

Look at this dude, he is trying to steal my candlestick. Hey! Put that down buster! What your going to hit me with it? Oh no! Now I am dead.

Good thing I dont really have candlesticks.