Meth-heads with grappling hooks

So, I have this horrible fear of home invasion. It usually only comes out to play when I'm home alone, at night.

The other day, I had my dad over for dinner. I was telling him how Scott was going to be working nights, and how I had a total plan for when my home was inevitably invaded. (Lock my bedroom door and call police.. Its genius, right?) My dad looks around my apartment, and says, "you're on the second floor. Lock your front door and you'll be fine." BUT THEN, he adds "Unless someone had a grappling hook. They could totally use a grappling hook on your balcony and get in that way!"

Great. Grappling hooks. Hadn't considered them. So glad I get to now.

Last night I stayed up most of the night, although, not in some sort of hypervigilant way, more in a "hooray for interwebz!" way. When Scott got home, I explained how a nice side effect of staying awake all night was that I wasn't afraid.

Scott: Honey, there's really nothing to be afraid of! Do you know how hard those doors are to break through?

Me: But, what if someone came up over the balcony with a grappling hook? Sometimes we don't even *lock* that door!!

Scott: As if you wouldn't hear a grappling hook!

Me: What good is *hearing* the grappling hook going to do me?

Scott: A home invader is gonna be scared off if they think you know they're there.

Me: Not a meth head. A meth head would just stab me!

Scott: Look, if a meth head manages to plan to get a grappling hook, break in and find you, I think you have to give it to him. I mean, that's awesome planning for a meth head.

Me: Thanks sweetie. Thank you for cheering for the meth head.

Good luck, Meth heads. Scott really means that.

Actual Post

So its 1.30 in the morning, and I'm attempting to pull an all nighter. Scott is doing night shift tonight and tomorrow, and I figured if I stay up, then I'll want to sleep when he does, rather than being all pouty and or stabby when he understandably wants to sleep. I seriously am that petty. Not proud, just honest..

Tonight is our 2-year-aversary of "hooking up", for want of a more elegant term. Married for roughly 15 months. We got married in vegas, and conveniently lost the incredibly ugly wedding pictures taken there. You have no idea how much bitching about that I've heard from my family. Not the married in vegas thing, I think that was always how it was gonna go down, but the lack of photos. What is this - "screenshot or it didn't happen!?" Anyway, we renewed our vows in hawaii, and had some really nice professional shots taken. Nobody cares. Even a little. I suspect that if I had the original wedding photos people would have the same lukewarm reaction, because seriously, how boring are other peoples wedding photos? Still, perhaps our mothers will be happy.

I have a week off work, which is all kinds of awesome. I seriously needed it though, I was so drained. And maybe a little crazy. Actually, no maybe, I was a little crazy. Fear not though, the tide of crazy seems to have subsided, and I feel like a real human being. This is what annoys me though - why does my job make me *stop* feeling like a real human being? Its fucked up. My job has such freakin responsibility, and it seems mandatory to be a soul-less caricature of yourself. I'm not awfully good at not being myself, which is why I have these occasional melt-downs.

So my goal for the week is to try and be happy as much as I can be, even if its purely by being completely distracted from "real life". And also to be a bit nicer to Scott, who is starting to have this long-suffering look about him. Which is a total role reversal, I assure you. I am the freaking queen of long-suffering!!

It is nice to be back to myself. Reacquaint myself with me. Hi me!