Thursday, October 27, 2011

Locked and Loaded

Sorry I didn't post earlier, but for safety reasons, I had to wait until The Man returned to tell you all about what happens when I'm left to my own devices.  Last week, The Man's employer asked if he could go to Seattle again for a few days.  I was able to go with him last time, just last month, but there was some doubt about how long he'd be up there this time, and I didn't want to be bored in a hotel room alone for three days.  No matter how much I insisted he could handle this work via video conferencing, he said he was going.

Thus began the first three nights I've slept alone since we got married two years ago.

And I really don't like being home alone at night.

Remember, our apartment door has two locks, one of which doesn't work, and the other only works after much difficulty.  We've given up trying to get it fixed as the dumb maintenance men clearly don't know what they're doing.  Our windows all lock and are doubly secured with little plastic thingies that stick down into the window sill.  We have no attic or crawl spaces above us.

As he left Sunday, I mentally walked through securing each entry point.  I was ready to sprinkle shards of glass on the sills.  I calculated how much time and force it would take to move the couch in front of the door.  I located all of the knives, distributed them into each room just in case.  My cell phone was never less than 75% charged.  I had cash in my pockets, food in my bag, and pepper spray within reach.

I. was. ready.

Aim for the eyes, I told myself.  If it comes time to use a knife, stab and twist.  Run in zig-zag patterns.  Scream "FIRE!" not "help!" and set off as many car alarms as possible.

I don't think I slept two winks on Sunday night, my first night alone.  I was so keyed up, so wired, almost shaking, but very exhausted.  Monday night was easier, partly because I was so tired.  Tuesday night dragged by one hour at a time.  I was counting the hours until The Man's return, until I could relax, until I'd have someone else to kill the creepy crawlies and bad guys and things that go bump in the night.

This, my dear readers, is what happens when I watch too many "Unsolved Mysteries" episodes, the news each  night, and "Home Alone" for the eighty-sixth time.  The Man claimed, upon return, that I was "overreacting."

But you know what?  Thanks to careful planning, constant surveillance, and being prepared,  I survived.

And no, there is no way that my survival was merely due to nobody breaking in.  It couldn't possibly be something so obvious, so boring, so... rational.  I mean, really, this whole "rational" thing is so overrated.  I could have died here, people!

(On The Man's first night back home with me, he managed to very firmly jab me in the eye while we were sleeping.  My biggest injury from this whole ordeal was from my husband.  Karma?  Anyone?  Anyone...?)

1 comment:

cm0978 said...

I'm glad I didn't try to come visit -- I might have been stabbed! :) I like the idea of setting off as many car alarms as possible. Just asking--did you find all the knives you had hid? Or are they still out there like Easter eggs waiting to be found?