I have an overactive imagination.  I know it, I've known it for years, and many times it's served me well.  I can entertain my self for hours with stories in my head while waiting at the doctors office.  My daughter, aka mini me, and I can spend days pretending to be princesses or alligators and have stories that weave through the house.  It's part of why Iove books so much, my imagination lifts me into the story and takes me away (2 days until Harry Potter!) and even at work it's helped me develop and deliver new and innovative solutions.

BUT, it also scares me, it makes me stay awake all night waiting for the bogey man.  Many years ago I realized that I can't watch scary movies, no matter how farsical, they freak me out, in my world, that stuff could really happen.  When I was teenager, I was at a party where they watched Friday the 13th (boys were so clever to pick the scary movies so the girls would scream and hug them) and it almost did me in.  For weeks I slept with the lights on and laying on my side for fear that he was under my bed ready to stab me.  Nutty right.  I learned just to stay away from them.  Never saw Nightmare on Elm Street.  Hawloween - Hawlo-NO.  I even banned super suspenseful, or anything that has scary people stalking others.  Sorry, not entertainment for me - I'll take Gilo over Child's Play anyday.

A few years ago my husband convinced me to watch Scary Movie.  It's soooo good he said, it's not that scary.  I asked around - everyone loved it. I finally agreed when it came out on video but mandated that we a) watch it during the day and b) stop it if I got freaked.  I never got past the first 8 minutes.  Hello, when someone is stalking a girl outside on the telephone and makes it clear they're watchin her and then she turns on the light and there is her boyfriend outside - fuck that!  Of course I got scared, I was beyond scared, I was freakin' paniced.  I ended up shutting it off and bitching at him for days.  I also turned the porch lights on before it got dark so there would be no surprises and I made a point of making sure my cell phone worked in case someone fucked with the main line.

So yes, I'm nuts - but you knew that already. For the most part I have it under control, I stay away from scary shit, and as long as hubby is home I am relatively unafraid.  Of course I do have an alarm system, a knife between the matress and boxspring, and my cell phone next to my bed.  But everyone does that right?  For you gun activists out there, DON'T even start with me about why I'd feel safer with Mr. Smith and Wesson by my side  - remember this is an over active imagination, not a real threat, I live in the burbs, not south central.  If I were to have a gun, there are high odd I'd ended up shooting the neighbors cat rather than some killer.

This week the boys are gone.  My mom is here, but frankly, she's not going to save my ass from Charles Manson (by the way, DO NOT read Helter Skelter or watch any tv movies about him, because he really did that stuff) so I spend a good part of the twilight hours between 10pm and exhaustion worried about bad things happening.  Last night I was in my kitchen turning out lights and getting ready to head up for bed when I looked out onto my screened in porch and froze with terror.  Oh god, someone could be out there.  I should turn on the light so that I'm not scared.  What if I turn on the light and mom is tied up out there just like scary movie.  Ok, don't turn on the light.  Shit, I gotta let the dog out - that means opening the fucking door to that porch. Shit. Shit. Shit.  Ok, Aim, buck up, this is just your wacked out imagination.  Turn on the porch light and the flood late, comeon girl.  Flick.  Porch is clear, where's the flood light.  Crap!  Someone is out there and disabled it.  Crap, they're going to kill the dog while she's taking a piss and then come and get me and mom and little miss.  Fuck.  Ok, call the hubby and stay on the phone with him while you let the dog out.  Ok, good - got a dial tone.  Hubby to me - "Scared again huh".  Me - fuck you, the flood light is out, and who knows what lurks in the yard.  Chat about nothing, prepared to scream details if the worse should happen.  Dog comes back safely.  Locks on. Alarm on. Porch Light Still on.  Deep breath.  Ok, I'm not going to sleep unless I calm down.  Into the pantry I go.  I costco red plastic cup, 2 parts vodka, one part cream de caco, ice and a splash of water later and gulp, gulp, gulp, I'm ready for bed. 

It took me a rerun of Entourage and most of Conan to finally relax and shut my eyes, but I did it.  I made it through the night and am alive to tell the tale.  4 more nights until Big Tough Hubby comes home.  God I'm pathetic.