I am so serious. Besides clowns, heights and submarines – don’t judge that last one, the episode of LOST where my TV boyfriend dies completely proves my point – the thing I may be most scared of is being murdered.
Yep. I’m scared of being murdered.
See: Why I slept in the middle of the bed when I house sat last summer for my aunt and uncle. Reason: So I had an equal chance of getting out if someone came in either of the two doors to their room.
See: Why I will not live in a first-floor apartment. Reason: Easier to get in and kill me, duh.
It’s not entirely unwarranted. I am a young woman. I don’t live alone but I used to. I’m not a fast runner – not really a runner at all, I’ve told you before I run like an old man – so it’s not like I could make a quick getaway.
But I do watch a lot of cop shows. So I feel like I know what I’m up against.
Why am I telling you all this?
Because. There are currently two cops walking around the apartment complex right now with flashlights. Naturally, I feel that means they are looking for a murderer. Or some other criminal that has escaped custody or something equally illegal.
Therefore. I will not be sleeping for at least another hour. And I’d really appreciate it if someone would come over and hold my hand until I fall asleep. Or at least guard my door. Thanks.