So I just wrote about this on facebook, but it got me thinking, so allow me to elaborate. I just went outside on the patio attached to my room to have my last cigarette of the night. I live on a really busy street, but at 3am, it's pretty quiet. There's this huge white van parked right outside my bedroom. Bigger than your average rape van, but with blackened windows. I paid it no mind, and lit my smoke. I had my laptop on my lap, so obviously my face was illuminated (as was, I assume, my cleavage). 30 seconds after I lit up, I heard the sound of the side door of the van opening. I looked up, startled, to see a hand emerge and pour a liquid on the ground. The interior of the van was pitch black except for a green blinking light. The door closed. I sat there, frozen. Immediately, ridiculous thoughts began racing through my mind. Cops on a stakeout? Stalker bugging someone's apartment? Sniper? Creepy hippie who is watching my tv through my sliding glass door? Pervy old man who was minding his own business until he saw a girl with big boobs come out on to her patio to smoke, so now he's contemplating hopping over my patio wall when my lights go out? (I'm ready for bed, but have yet to turn my light off for that reason.) These are things that I seriously think on a regular basis, you guys. Any time anything remotely odd happens, I nod to myself and think, "Yep. Home invasion time, Brit."
I've done this for years, and it can be both annoying and amusing. Some of my fears are so irrational that I have to laugh at myself. Just earlier, I had myself convinced that I would die because the eggs I cooked at work seemed a bit runny, and I've heard that raw eggs are bad for you. I didn't even finish them. So dumb, you guys. I lay in bed several times a week and plan out exactly what I would do if someone was looking in my patio door at me. (Freeze, pull the covers over my head, yell for BRO.) Most of the scenarios I make up for myself involve some version of me freezing. I mean, isn't that what you do when you hear a weird creak in your house at night? I'm not an investigator. I'm a hider.
The day "The Rapture" was supposedly upon us, BRO was having a bit of fun with me by asking me what I would do in various scenarios. My answer every time, without fail, was, "sit in a corner and cry." I'm just no good to anyone. I'd like to think that I'd rise to the occasion if a Japan style earthquake were to hit LA, but mostly I think I'd just scream and cry and clutch my dog.
On a daily basis, I have at least 4 psychosomatic near-death experiences. At a gas station? Don't breathe too deeply, or you'll inhale too many fumes and die. Working out? You're breathing too hard, you're probably going to have a heart attack at any moment. My brother driving me to work? He's not paying attention and we're about to crash into that pole/car/old man. Bringing the furniture inside after the cafe closes? Some hoodlum is about to approach you and demand money before shooting you in the face. This is my life.
I know I'm not the only one this happens to. Last year, I was driving to NYC with a friend and it came up that I don't like being stopped under highway over-passes because I'm terrified that they'll collapse at that exact moment. Her fear was even more irrational - she doesn't like being stopped just after the over-pass because she's terrified that a car will come careening over the edge and land on top of her car. I had to laugh at that, but I secretly understood. After all, I'm the kind of person who firmly believes that I have a blood clot in my leg at least once a week, for no other reason than they scare the shit out of me.
So now I have to try to go to sleep, knowing that there's some random person doing God knows what in a creepy van 50 feet away from my bed. Thankfully, George barks at his own shadow, so at least I'll have some warning before I retreat, crying, to my corner.
No comments:
Post a Comment