Saturday, May 16, 2009

Kinda Creeped Out Right Now

When we built our house, Workaholic wanted to put in a security system. I didn't want to spend the money, because we had just spent a fortune building a big house in a nice neighborhood, and I'll be damned if I spend more money protecting myself from...the rich teenagers that peruse my neighborhood?

And then our house started making weird noises. I'd hear what sounded like glass breaking in the basement. Or I'd hear a really big bang. (turns out that was a door slamming...just not sure why the door in the basement decided to randomly close) Or I'd hear a series of bangs. Sometimes Fonz would bark like crazy, usually not. He's one hell of a guard dog. I got used to the noises, they still weirded me out, but I wasn't scared like the first time I heard something. I've always been a little cautious about staying home alone, but I am not totally a scared-y cat.

Tonight, Workaholic is in Lafayette helping friends of ours build a fence. I didn't go, because I sort of feel like shit...I either have a cold or God decided to bless me with allergies. Samantha and I took two 3 hour naps was awesome. So I'm hanging out in my bedroom, Sam is down the hall in hers, and Fonz is asleep on the bed next to me. Quiet night, I've checked the doors twice to make sure they are locked.

And then I am scared shitless when I hear what sounds like someone pounding on the front door. My first thought is, "Why the hell are they knocking when they could just ring the doorbell?" And then I think that it sounds more like it came from inside the house. Damn dog...why isn't he worried? I jumped out of bed and ran into Samantha's room, flipping on the light. She sort of woke up, but she is fine. The thing is, she has a sliding glass door in her room, leading out to a balcony. She is on the second floor, but it still worries me. I call Fonz to come to the front door with me...and there is no one there. He was slow to come off the bed, go figure.

So I sort of do the rounds, turning on lots of lights, and re-check the doors. All is quiet now. And I think to myself, "I wish we had a security system. I wonder if the cops would be mad at me if I called and just asked them to come over and check things out." I figure they would be mad, and might not even come, so I don't call. No reason to cry wolf.

Now I am sitting on the bed, typing this while watching an old episode of Southland. Real smart to watch a cop show when I'm all worried about my house getting broken into. Every little noise I hear makes me jump, and I'm going to have Samantha sleep in her cradle in our room tonight. And when Workaholic gets home...we'll be pricing a security system.

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