Hello, my name is Libby and I am a scaredy cat. (hello, Libby...)
I am, perhaps by nature, but more likely by other contingencies (horror stories from my mother, the news, books and movies of the "thriller" persuasion), a paranoid worry wart. I do hope I am not alone in this, as that is most often when it comes creeping up- when I am alone.
After a few bouts of college roommates, post-grad I decided to live alone. "No roommates until it's my husband!" I said. I perhaps should have thought through that decision a little better. I clearly was not considering the creepy noises refrigerators and walls make in the wee hours of the night.
After many visions of break-in bums danced in my head, I decided to get a guard dog. Yes, a guard dog! Not only would he be my companion for the lonely evenings spent in front of my T.V. that I'm too cheap to buy cable for, but he would be able to protect me from any harm, remove the extremities of an intruder, and sound the alarm when danger lurked.
I give you, exhibit A: The Guard Dog.
Okay, but can you blame me?? He's awfully cute, and he does sound the alarm- but mostly just to hear himself bark. And bark. And bark. Guarding the castle is just not what he was designed for.
Having my buddy, Simon around has helped though, despite his 6 pound stature. That is, until last night when an unidentified noise came from outside my dining room window at one o'clock in the morning.
Okay, Simon, this is getting us nowhere. Pace, pause, staring contest with Simon, pace, call boyfriend, pause, listen, pace, call boyfriend, pace...
Finally, I put Simon back in his bed, and willed myself to change my thinking to more rational thoughts. Between the weird dreams and waking up every thirty minutes, I'd say I was successful..well, ya know, relatively speaking.
That is, until this morning when I turned on the Today Show. Top story: woman gets raped for 5 hours after a date with an anesthesiologist she met online. Well, isn't that just what I needed to fill my thoughts today...
So today, I double and triple checked my backseat as I got in my car, gave an extra mean look to the lingering-eyed man who told me to have a good day outside the library, and kept replaying in my head the S-I-N-G scene from Miss Congeniality. (Stomach, instep, nose, groin!)
I am bound and determined to have a peaceful night's sleep tonight. I am going to lock my doors, say my prayers, and not think about any scenes I have ever seen on Law and Order. Ever.
And if that doesn't work, I shall buy me a hot pink, bedazzled gun. Who says I can't have rhinestones while I'm kicking ass?