Once the weekend wrapped up, I was upset about something the past couple of days. It finally died down today, thank goodness–thanks to some therapy from an acquaintance. I think getting sleep helps. And that’s something I haven’t been easily able to achieve.

I now feel unsafe in our home b/c of the break-ins. I feel violated, which isn’t abnormal, but now I have to sleep farthest from the bedroom door now so that if a thief came into the condo and went into the bedroom, they’d find bub first, not me. Not that I want him hurt–I’d gladly protect him, but see–he’s much stronger than I. I hope the sprinkling of readers reading this doesn’t think I’m trying to let my fiance be attacked first. Really I’m not. I just happen to need to act like a 12-year old and be afraid of what monsters–real as they are–may be on the way to get me. I’m also so paranoid that when bub leaves for work, I have to turn around every 2 seconds to look at the door of the condo while I blow dry my hair so as to make sure I can spot an intruder. What will I do when they arrive at my door with a crow bar in hand–or maybe a gun? Um, I dunno. I’ll keep you posted.

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