Wow, I am going to have fun getting to sleep tonight.
My husband is out of town. Before he left I joked about what I’d do if we had burglars. This place is old, and the security is merely OK, though I’m not very worried on a rational level.
On the other hand, something just rattled in a “human in another room” kind of way. I got up and checked it out. (Why!? This is stupid if there was actually someone there. But I couldn’t leave it be and hope to get any sleep.)
This place has weird acoustics. When we first moved in we’d wake up in the middle of the night to what sounded like conversation in our bedroom. It was actually upstairs but it’s still creepy. If there are people talking in the driveway it sounds like they’re in our lounge room.
So I checked all the doors and windows are locked and nothing’s disturbed but I swear I’m going to shriek or otherwise make an ass of myself (to an audience of zero, thankfully) if anything else goes bump!
Boy, is that mundane, and pointless. But it sort of makes things less creepy to share them with other people!
Well, the thing went bump, rattle again just now but since I checked the perimeter and (more to the point) I am a big wuss, I am staying in bed with my feet hidden under the covers. I put on a CD so I either won’t here the next bump or it’ll be scared off by Annie Lennox.
Sometimes, when I’m lying awake at night, I get the same feeling.
What helps me, strangely enough, is convincing myself that there are monsters or the spirits of dead people or something, and that they are trying to startle me. Then, I can say to myself “Well, I’m not going to let those b**** get the best of me!”, and I feel more secure, because I’m expecting something scary to happen. I also find talking to (and swearing at) these imaginary things helpful; that’s why, late at night, you can find me sitting upright in my bed saying in a fairly loud voice “Nice try you stupid undead ghost f-er. Why don’t you go back to hell where you belong! And I know you just snuck up behind me and are trying to startle me by slithering you slimy tentacles up my back, you stupid monster. Well, it won’t work. Go f- yourself” It’s quite theraputic.
My husband is a firefighter so work is 24 hours on 48 off. We live in a sturdy 60 year old house, in the city, on a busy street. The house is well insulated, so outside noise isn’t a problem. Most nights that I’m here alone, I’m fine. We have 3 cats so, any noise can, and probably is, them.
The other night I ended up staying up all night. I couldn’t stop thinking about home invasion robberies. I double locked all the doors. I turned on all the lights inside and out. I had the radio and TV on; loud.
Why? There hadn’t been any such crimes in the city recently. I’ve never met anyone who was of victim.
When My honey arrived home at 6:30am he thought I was having a heart attack or something equally horrible.
When I told him what was wrong he LAUGHED!
At least I got my kitchen really clean.
