Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Chickens are easily startled.

I'm laughing in my head as I recall the events of this morning.  I was sleeping soundly...dreaming, if you will.  We'll just say I was dreaming about licking handsome men, but I don't really think I was.  I usually have completely off the wall dreams that not even Freud or Jung could interpret.  But I digress...

I was suddenly startled awake by literally what sounded like someone knocking over the furniture in my living room.  Or crashing through my patio door or something...either way it was loud and scary sounding.  I literally jumped out of bed and ran into the living room, yelling "What the HELL WAS THAT???".  My mother was already awake and ended up in the living room at the same time as I did.  She assured me that it was only my $200 painting falling off the wall, onto my side table, knocking down the family pictures I had scattered there.  She had to tell me this, because I could not see.  I was literally standing in my living room, no contacts, in my panties and a tank top, and hair all a mess.  It was 5:30am.  Blind and half-naked, I left the painting leaning against the wall to deal with later.  Hopefully, my children will not have put a hole in it by the time I get home from work.  As I scooted back to my bed, hoping to fall back asleep, I started to wonder...
"What if that had been a burglar?"  I always thought that I'd be the tough mom, who hears the slightest sound in her house, immediately knows it's a predator, and waits patiently in her room to cut their evil throats.  Obviously, I am not.  At the first sound, I'm running into the danger, blind as a bat, without any clothes on...just begging to be assaulted...or, goddess forbid, shot because I startled them worse than they startled me.  *sighs*  This is why I need a man in my house.  Maybe I'll just settle for a dog.

And I still have no idea why that painting fell off the wall...the heavy duty screws are still in place, waiting for the picture to be re-hung.  I should quite possibly be worrying about poltergeists instead of burglars.

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