I’ve come downstairs to curl up on the couch. I can’t sleep upstairs in my bedroom anymore tonight. Every time I drift down towards dreamland, a crash from that big bush outside the front window snaps me upright.
In a sense of almost unparalleled terror, I called the police at 3:45 and they came by to check things out. No, no one was skulking around. Of course not.
That was just over two hours ago. I haven’t gone back to sleep yet.
I don’t want to be that crazy lady who calls the police all the time.
I want to be the lady whose house wasn’t burglarized.