scary

Sunday, February 5, 2012

I spent the weekend getting my house ready for when my dad comes to town this Friday and also because when I'm working out everyday in Darien's lil office room, the mess in there gives me actual panic attacks. After a few hours of folding and throwing away things and moving around empty boxes that he still hasn’t tossed from when we moved in six months ago, I went to the store to get ingredients for cookie dough dip.

There’s this fruit truck that parks near the corner of the grocery store. It sells mostly vegetables that I don’t recognize and have no interest in coming to recognize. The guy who runs the truck gives me weird eyes a lot and speaks sentences to me that I can't understand. Most days I’m in a rush and it drives me nuts, but I’m a sucker like that, ya know? I’ll be 10 minutes late to work because the fruit truck man needed to holler at me and I wait around until I can understand him. Whatever.

There has been an unusual vibe around town for the past week or two and I can't shake it. I've seen on the news a few stories about break-ins near my neighborhood, including one where the couple who lived in a house got tied up and the woman was sexually assaulted, and the offenders are still at large. I took a nap around 4:00 this afternoon and woke up shortly afterwards to the sound of my car alarm going off outside my window -- but only going off for about 10 seconds before inexplicably stopping. It sent me spiraling in fear, like most nights do, because I hear things and am convinced people are casing the joint and wanting to rape me (yes, rape. I am positive that anyone who tries to break in to my house wouldn't let me off so easy as to kill me. They would rape me and leave me suffering from my vagina).

I didn't used to be so scared of staying alone. In fact, I used to enjoy it. And, I miss having people to call and have stay over the way I did in California. Everything feels very weird and also I planned my Sunday around bidding on a dress on Ebay but chickened out in the final hour because I've been reading about one-click bidding and snipers and told myself that I obviously wasn't good enough for this dress, anyway. So there goes that. There goes the vintage Indian maxi dress that I could have gotten for a fraction of what it is worth. There goes everything, world.