It's possible. I do have some habits that could lean toward that description.
For example, I will check under the bed from time to time, particularly when Todd is out of town, just to make sure that there aren't any axe murderers lying in wait for me to hit REM sleep before they jump out and go all ginsu on my dormant body. Of course, now that I have dogs I tend to do this less often, because I assume that one of them would alert me if someone was hiding under my bed, especially since that is at their nose level and all. I guess I tend to think that axe murderers would be fairly odoriferous and catch the attention of my nosy mutts.
And then there's work, where we have a slight brown recluse problem. And by "slight" I mean that we see them scurrying down the hall or along the wall quite often, which means that there are probably 2,000 more hiding behind the walls. So, everytime I go to the bathroom, I lift the toilet seat and look underneath, just to make sure that one of the little buggers isn't crouching under there, ready to take a bite out of my bum when I sit down. Brown recluse bites ain't no joke--they make your skin and muscle tissue fall off. Not that I would mind terribly if part of my bum fell off, so I could fit in my size 6 jeans again...but I would prefer that the venom of a recluse spider not be involved.
And finally, the car. And parking lots. I'm always hyper-vigilant when walking to my car in a parking lot, because I've heard too many stories about people's ankles being slashed by gang members hiding under the cars, or stowaways hidden in the backseat (again with the axe murderers), and so on and so forth. I realize that most of these tales are urban myths, but still. Also, if there is a large white van parked on the driver's side of my car, I will be entering my car from the passenger side, thank you. Of course, the irony here is that my soon-to-be husband drives a large, white van. Now, if Todd wants to surprise me and pull me into the back of his van to have his way with me, I'm ok with that. As long as he moves the table saw out of the way. With other random vans, I'm not going to take my chances.
So maybe I'm not actually neurotic, maybe I'm just a little bit of a scaredy-cat. But, if my overactive fear anxieties keep me from getting my butt dissolved by a spider bite, or prevent me from being kid-napped (adult-napped?) in a Target parking lot, or mean that an axe murderer is going to have to kill me to my face instead of in my sleep, then so be it. Call me a scaredy-cat all you want.
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4 comments:
I think I just peed my pants -- you are cracking me up!
I still use some of the self-defense tactics I learned from my freshman R.A. For example, at night, I never walk to my car without making sure I have my keys in my fist, with one key sticking out. Just in case I have to poke an attacker in the eye.
Whatever makes you feel safe, you know? And you're always welcome to borrow Jane the attack cat if you'd like. She's the most fearsome creature I know (although she is difficult to aim).
i'll admit to sleeping with a maglite since j-p's been gone. it's a multitasker -- a flashlight if i need it, and a weapon in a worst-case scenario. because i am the queen of worst-case scenarios!
MN- glad I could bring a laugh to your day!
K- That's a good one--I'll have to practice that with my keys. And I'll let you know if I need to borrow Jane, although I would fear for the dogs' health if she came near!
MH- Yes, I sometimes think that the worst case scenario books were written with me specifically in mind!
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