I had a bad bout of paranoia this morning, that found me actually leaving the house early and seeking the presence of people on the street. Should I explain? Okay, lets go;First of all, some background info: We have an alarm in our apartment. When the alarm isn't armed, it makes three beeping sounds which can easily be heard throughout the house (when it is alarmed it wails to hell and back, seriously I've had the experience of being on the receiving end). I think its great, but this morning, I started to question my love for that little alarm.
You see, here I am, early in the morning, alone in this little apartment. Gord being in Seattle, Bjorn being at work, I'm drifting in and out of consciousness and in the back of my mind I hear the beeps. You know at that point in your sleepy frame of mind, where you hear the sound of your alarm clock, even when it hasn't gone off yet, or it went off about half an hour ago? Have you been there before? Well, if so, then you might understand my panic when, I thought I heard those three beeps.
Is there someone there?
So I lie there, listening for a couple of minutes before I get up and turn the light on. I start making noises with books and bags and slamming wardrobe doors. All this in the hope that if they were just wanting to steal something, they'd do it and get the hell out/stay away from our room, as well as the added bonus of making it sound like there was more than one person at home. I start to grow worried, thinking about how if there is someone in the house, then I have no chance in hell of calling anyone for help, since a) the phone is in the lounge, a place I would assume the person would be and b) I don't have a working cellphone. So shit, I would have to fight or run or both, only one of which I think I could be remotely good at.
So I wait. I eye the doors (one to the hall, one to the lounge). I sit there in absolute paranoia for about half an hour before I get the guts to step out quietly into the hall (thinking the hall would be safer than the lounge). I peer my head around the corner and see...nothing. Absolutely nothing. I run to the closest light switch and flick it on, then onto the next, then onto the next and then finally into the kitchen, flick on the light and make a mad dash to the window to see if the hull had indeed, been breached. Was it?
Nope. Still securely fastened. I look toward Gordons room, the dark hallway leading to it and wonder if I should venture in. I decide against it and slowly backout of the kitchen, eyes darting left, right and center. I head to the bathroom, and whilst brushing my teeth with my back to the mirror (facing the door) I spot the shower rod we haven't put up yet, a nice hefty metal rod, not too long, not to short, could deal a considerable amount of damage if one was to bash another in the face with it. Perfect. I pick it up and head back to the bedroom, forever turning in circles, watching each door.
I close the door and prop our long mirror up against the door leading into the lounge, since I still think that's the most dangerous of places within our apartment and I still don't have the guts to go in there. I start to do my hair when it dawns on me. The wardrobe! I was in the bathroom! They could've come in and be, at this very moment, hiding in the wardrobe! Good lord! So, I quietly stand, gripping the shower rod in my right hand, and then I fling open the wardrobe and jab the shower rod forward as if it was some sort of sabre and I was in a fencing duel with the empty closet and our clothes. Okay, so the wardrobe wasn't hiding any criminals.
I finish up my hair and tidy up the room, all the while thinking of the lounge. The thin door between the lounge and myself. The thin door that could be concealing someone on the otherside, listening to everything I was doing, watching the light flicker underneath the door as I walked past it.
And just as these thoughts were running through my head, sending the hairs on the back of my neck to quivering heights, my FUCKEN alarm goes off and I just about did a Mena, running up the wall, shitting my pants all over the net curtains. In all my paranoia I forgot all about my alarm and I can only imagine the horror I would have felt if I had been in another room at that time, how I probably would've run and done a half-assed hurdle across the neighbours fence, probably knocking down one of the small old Asians that live there, and then been sued for stampeding because my very own alarm clock had scared me out of the house. Strong case huh?
So after the alarm clock fiasco, I got fed up. I got angry and annoyed and thought, ya know what? I have a nasty metal rod, and I am a pissed off redhead. How dare someone come (or not come, in this case) into my house and threaten me by just being there. How dare they not step up to the plate and show me what they're made of. So I put back the mirror, fling open the lounge door and yell in my biggest most scariest voice "YIPPEE-KI-YAY MOTHERFUCKER".And what do I see? Nothing. There's nobody there. I muster all I could and yelled yippee-ki-yay motherfucker at absolutely nothing.
And now, do I feel like a fool? No, not really. You can all laugh at me and call me an idiot, but atleast I know, that if Bruce Willis were ever to find out I used those words, in the face of fear, I'm sure he would be proud at me, give me a little Bruce smirk, pat me firmly on the back and mutter the words "You done good kid, real good".