Sunday, February 19, 2006

Intruder in my appartment?

For the first time since I've been here, I've felt scared. The blood-rushing-to-the-head, heart-pounding, this-could-be-my-last-minute-on-earth kind of scared.

There's a little electrical box in my hallway, and though I've opened it a couple of times, I haven't touched it in weeks.

It's always the first thing I see when entering my flat... and when I got home the other evening, it was open. I know that I didn't open it. And I know it can't open by itself, as it snaps shut. Which means... someone else must have opened it. Intruder!! I suddenly felt quite sick and panicky, and debated how to proceed. Fortunately, my place is rather small, and there aren't that many places for intruders to hide. So, out of my right jacket pocket came my handy little Siemens cell phone, and I pretend-dialed an imaginary friend. Here's the logic: if someone is going to attack and murder me, they'll be less likely to do so when I'm in the middle of a phone conversation.

Mary: "Hey Hon, just wanted to let you know that I made it home..."
*strategic pause*
Mary: "Yeah, it was a long day... so when will you be home?"
*looks behind the shower curtain*
Mary: "Oh, in about five minutes? Perfect timing."
*looks behind the sofas*
Mary: "What?"
*another strategic pause*
Mary: "You're kidding!"
*looks inside the dishwasher*
Mary: "I can't believe it!"
*wonders if she's losing her sanity*
Mary: "You'll have to tell me every detail when you get back."
*looks in and behind the closet*

And so it carried on until the flat was thoroughly searched.

Is this kind of behaviour normal? An eye examination for my driver's license is pending... and I'm wondering whether a psychological examination is also necessary.

Lyric of the day: "Every move you make, every vow you break, every smile you fake, every claim you stake... I'll be watching you." (Thanks to Sting)

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