fraidy cat

John is in Baltimore for work this week.  He left Tuesday morning and will be back Friday (maybe Saturday). 
I do not sleep well without him.   Yes, for the sweet reasons of love and all that, but also because I am so afraid of being here by myself at night.  I have watched waaay too many episodes of I Survived involving women home alone awakened by a man standing at the foot of their beds.  You know, pretty much every person's worst nightmare.
John will be gone several days every week this month, so my eyes should be sufficiently dark and puffy by the end of it.  (this is a private blog, so I didn't just announce to the www that I'm home alone)

By now, our dog, Lily, has to think I'm crazy because of how many times I check every single nook and crany of our house for lurking rape artists and kidnappers before finally settling into bed.
Before we had Jake, I would lock our bedroom door and that made me feel pretty confident that I wouldn't be caught off guard by someone.  I can't do that now, so I have set the house up so that no one can get near either of our rooms without making a lot of noise. 

I may be a paranoid, card carrying loonatic, but, should said rape artist or kidnapper make his way through my boobie traps, I have a .357 magnum under the pillow next to me waiting for him. 

(we believe very strongly in the 2nd amendment around here and, in case you're alarmed, our guns stay in a locked safe out of Jake's reach)