Breaking and entering

Thursday, October 11, 2007
I officially freaked myself out last night. I have always viewed myself as a tough girl. I can handle any situation with the slightest of ease....or so I think. Well, last night was a whole different story.

I passed out at about 11:30 p.m. and awoke to the B.F.'s text messages of purses. He had the new account girl modeling purses -- she looked cute but I could hardly make out the bag. After I hung up on him twice because I was losing interest and falling asleep, I told him which one I liked better and told him not to buy it. I turn over to get comfortable and a light in the living room is shining eerily bright into my room. I think my heart stopped. I didn't leave that light on. I never leave lights on when I sleep. I know I leave them all on when I'm up but not when I'm sleeping. I made sure to turn all the lights off. I jump up and tip toe to see if I can see someone's shadow in the living room. I have convinced myself that there is an intruder in my apartment. I put on shoes, pants and shirt and the grasp my keys in between my fingers like I was taught at a self defense class. Meanwhile, the B.F. is calling me and I just ignore his calls because I think I'm going to scream I'm so nervous. I flip on every light, check the doors and locks for forced entry and can find no examples that someone else has been there.

I grab a kitchen knife. (Note to readers: I think I have watched one too many Law & Order: SVU episodes.) I hop in my bed, watch Pageant Place on MTV to calm myself down but I only get more furious because I don't give a shit about Tara Conner and her rehab -- congratulations, honey! You joined the ranks of all the rest.

Needless to say, I fell asleep and woke up alive this morning to come into the office for another day of work. I'm kind of glad that B.F. is returning tonight. I just don't know how the hell that lamp got turned on.

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