Lately, people, I've been very nervous about crime.
My neighborhood has seen a rise in instances of breaking and entering and vandalism in the past few weeks, it doesn't look like it's going to let up.
Two weeks ago, my neighbor's car was stolen from right in front of their house while they were away on vacation.
Two days later, my car window was broken and the breaker took my cd book.
They'll fucking break car windows just for a book of cds. I hope they sleep well at night. I wonder if they noticed the kids' car seats in the backseat before, or after they broke the window.
A few days ago I read "The Bravest Woman in Seattle" by Eli Sanders. If you've read the piece, you know what I'm talking about. That shit has stuck with me and I have a hard time not thinking about it.
Yesterday, an email came thru the neighborhood email group I recently joined. It's from a neighbor down the block, who was telling us all that her neighbor got broken into the previous night. A husband and wife live there, I don't know if they have kids. The wife was home alone. The burglars got in through a locked window.
This neighborhood vandalism is getting ridiculous and out of control. In addition to that, I have a vision of this knife-wielding rapist standing over me when I'm in bed, having snuck up on me while I was sleeping. It's what happened to the subjects of the Sanders story. It happened in Seattle.
When Megan goes to work early in the morning sometimes, she sees cars slowly driving around, creeping. She's got a co-worker who works even earlier than her, in our neighborhood--he's seen the same thing.
Vandals are casing us, and striking when we're asleep, in the middle of the night.
Last night, I slept maybe four hours. I couldn't fall asleep because I was stressing out about all this shit, and thinking, "What if, next time, it's us? What would I do? What if they come through Lucy's window and I'm asleep and I don't hear them?"
How's a dad supposed to fucking sleep with all this going on?!
I'm thinking of new things, too--like signing up with a home security company, investing in some kind of weapon to store concealed near my bed, upgrading the locks on our doors, and that this 100-year-old house needs a guard-dog.
Our landlord has been incommunicado about us switching apartments for a month or more now. In December, he said he planned to have it ready for us in March. Hmph. I wonder if he knows about any of the crime in going on at all. Suppose it's time to ask him, huh?
Jeez, gotta call the landlord and have a semi-awkward, mostly stressful talk about crime and hurrying him along. Wonderful. Maybe after I catch a few winks while the kids play in our walk-in closet..... man I'm tired.
I'm taking this summer off of school. I fucking need it. As my dad recently said on the phone to me, I've been burning the candle at both ends for too long. I need a break.
My classmates sometimes comment on how haggard I look. The bags under my eyes grow more permanent every day. I'm aging well past my 30 years already--need some time to let that melt away and age a little slower for a while. (not for three more years at least, dad...) Shut up , bra
Megan came home for her lunch break today, and I fell asleep on Lucy's bed. It was strange. Lucy let me sleep while Megan put Yellow Submarine played.
I slept for two hours. Now I'm at school and talking with a friend about how scared that Sanders story made us. It's good to talk about this stuff.
My neighborhood has seen a rise in instances of breaking and entering and vandalism in the past few weeks, it doesn't look like it's going to let up.
Two weeks ago, my neighbor's car was stolen from right in front of their house while they were away on vacation.
Two days later, my car window was broken and the breaker took my cd book.
They'll fucking break car windows just for a book of cds. I hope they sleep well at night. I wonder if they noticed the kids' car seats in the backseat before, or after they broke the window.
A few days ago I read "The Bravest Woman in Seattle" by Eli Sanders. If you've read the piece, you know what I'm talking about. That shit has stuck with me and I have a hard time not thinking about it.
Yesterday, an email came thru the neighborhood email group I recently joined. It's from a neighbor down the block, who was telling us all that her neighbor got broken into the previous night. A husband and wife live there, I don't know if they have kids. The wife was home alone. The burglars got in through a locked window.
This neighborhood vandalism is getting ridiculous and out of control. In addition to that, I have a vision of this knife-wielding rapist standing over me when I'm in bed, having snuck up on me while I was sleeping. It's what happened to the subjects of the Sanders story. It happened in Seattle.
When Megan goes to work early in the morning sometimes, she sees cars slowly driving around, creeping. She's got a co-worker who works even earlier than her, in our neighborhood--he's seen the same thing.
Vandals are casing us, and striking when we're asleep, in the middle of the night.
Last night, I slept maybe four hours. I couldn't fall asleep because I was stressing out about all this shit, and thinking, "What if, next time, it's us? What would I do? What if they come through Lucy's window and I'm asleep and I don't hear them?"
How's a dad supposed to fucking sleep with all this going on?!
I'm thinking of new things, too--like signing up with a home security company, investing in some kind of weapon to store concealed near my bed, upgrading the locks on our doors, and that this 100-year-old house needs a guard-dog.
Our landlord has been incommunicado about us switching apartments for a month or more now. In December, he said he planned to have it ready for us in March. Hmph. I wonder if he knows about any of the crime in going on at all. Suppose it's time to ask him, huh?
Jeez, gotta call the landlord and have a semi-awkward, mostly stressful talk about crime and hurrying him along. Wonderful. Maybe after I catch a few winks while the kids play in our walk-in closet..... man I'm tired.
I'm taking this summer off of school. I fucking need it. As my dad recently said on the phone to me, I've been burning the candle at both ends for too long. I need a break.
My classmates sometimes comment on how haggard I look. The bags under my eyes grow more permanent every day. I'm aging well past my 30 years already--need some time to let that melt away and age a little slower for a while. (not for three more years at least, dad...) Shut up , bra
______________________________
Megan came home for her lunch break today, and I fell asleep on Lucy's bed. It was strange. Lucy let me sleep while Megan put Yellow Submarine played.
I slept for two hours. Now I'm at school and talking with a friend about how scared that Sanders story made us. It's good to talk about this stuff.
No comments:
Post a Comment
I encourage comments from any and all readers. Please lay your thoughts on me.