So I'm in the middle of a dream...something about being held captive by a rather handsome bad-boy from whom an old high school guy friend is trying to free us. Then that escapade is suddenly over and I'm reading a report of prescriptions I've used. (Sidenote: WTF?)
Suddenly the doorbell rings.
The dream, I think.
Or was it?
Is there anything worse than waking from a dream to wonder if what woke you was part of the dream or based in reality??
I don't move a muscle, remaining as silent as possible while my heart beats out of my chest.
I picture myself coming in from the grocery store earlier with bags under each arm. I picture that flick of the lock that didn't quite engage all the way.
Is my front door securely LOCKED???
Finally, after ten minutes, I tip toe to the extra bedroom--the one with a window overlooking the driveway and street. (Naturally, I can't get real close to it since there's a host of computer debris standing in the way.) Careful not to make any noise, I twist the blinds open and bend into an interesting contortion in order to look outside.
Nothing I can see but fog...but then my roof obscures much of the view.
Decide to bite the bullet and creep downstairs where I peer through the peephole. (Is there a more useless invention?? I can't make out SHIT through that thing.)
Meanwhile, I wonder if someone is standing silently on the other side of the door.
Thump, thump, thump. (That's my heart, not the possible doorbell ringer.)
In the darkness, I do the Helen Keller thing, waiting to feel the familiar shape of the deadbolt. Seems to be in the proper position.
I stealth my way back upstairs and sit on the bed. Think about posting something on Facebook but don't wanna freak out people on the east coast who might be up reading it.
Don't turn on the TV because I wanna be able to hear every last sound.
The minutes drag on...then they turn to hours...and I finally fall asleep, only to wake up late for work.
Sometimes it SUCKS to be single.