I know absolutely, from experience, that I will not freeze up and be passive.

Yes. It's a great comfort to know this about myself as well.

See, now y'all are kinda freakin me out about my new house--the old place, I was totally down with the fire plan and had gotten into the "murderers breaking in to kill me" plan (obsessive checking to see that I'd locked the door, and knowing no one was rappelling down to get into my balcony, and couldn't get up a ladder from the busy street to get onto it). New place, I'm already doing the "too big to obsessively check doors and now I have MULTIPLE DOORS OMG AND MULTIPLE WINDOWS MURDERERS COULD GET IN" AND now I have to re-figure out how to escape in a fire PLUS I have no idea where my "things I want to grab in a fire" are? Eep. (Not to mention, that whole "Now I live in a place with earthquakes" thing that I still haven't quite grokked)

...gah. I may be a little overly anxious at times. And stressy, right now. I pointed out to my boss that although we are required to do 7 visits every month, in June I am currently supposed to do ELEVEN. And they stopped giving us bonuses. And currently I have no idea how I'm supposed to finish what I'm supposed to get done at one place--I think it may not happen (they'll flip, but I told them A MONTH AGO I needed help, and now they're all "Um, maybe we can't help?" when they said they would). AND, they're asking for ridiculous shit like "To make it look better, can you do that one thing on two days instead of one?" and I'm like "FUCK NO, there are actual things I would LIKE to take two days to do but don't have time, something that will only take me two HOURS is not going to be given two DAYS just because it will look better".

...breathe. breathe. breathe....

I'm supposed to have an interview for a new job in a couple weeks. I'm not actually sure it would be a BETTER job, though.

I'm exhausted, but too keyed up to sleep. Way too many things on my mind, and I can't get my brain to slow down. (Or my heart, either -- I just checked, and after lying down for about five minutes, my heart rate was 102.)

...breathe. breathe. breathe....

This.

I really wish I could sleep in tomorrow morning, but the latest that I can possibly sleep is 9, and that's cutting it kind of close. Then I'm busy on Friday, then I'll finally be able to sleep on Saturday, when I'm pretty sure I'll sleep all day.

meara, when I lived by myself (in that apartment on the Plaza, on the first floor) I kept windchimes on all my windows, and the really hinky windows I was nervous about, I kept vases and bottles.

My bedroom, I was much more sanguine about, because although it would be easy to break into, a person would cause a LOT of noise, and have to wriggle ONTO my bed in order to get in. In which case, I would be able to easily fillet him/her like a trout.

Hee. I totes would be the first line of defense in our house; I am MUCH meaner than Dan. I would lob cats at them. They have claws.

Hil...chamomile tea? Warm bath?

Yes, everybody breathe. You will get through!

OK. I have a phone interview tomorrow with a place that seems to really want to hire me and where I'm pretty sure I would like to work, and it's definitely an area where I'd be much happier living than west Georgia. (No offense to Georgians -- I just know that I'm not comfortable living someplace that far from a Jewish community.) I know I'm one of the top few candidates at another school, where I'm also pretty sure I'd like to work, and which is in a totally different location that also looks like someplace I could happily live.

Just need to remember to breathe. I know that I'm going to calm way down once this is settled.

And now I'm getting heartburn. I know I've got some Tums around here somewhere. Just have no idea where. t edit: the Tums were behind the TV. Also found some behind the bookcase. No clue why.

I totes would be the first line of defense in our house

It would be very difficult for someone to get into my house unnoticed. And then? I keep a very heavy hammer and a Kellite by my bed.

One of the few beneficial things my psychopathic father taught me was 'go for the eyes.' And, punch the throat. He 'demonstrated' for my own good. I will never, ever forget that pain. Trying to hit the head makes no sense, you'll break your hand before making a dent. The throat, however, is pretty incapacitating.

t /scary wee woman

I'm an trach-cruncher, too! MA SISTER!

haHA! I raise my hammer in salute!