Someone rang my doorbell and then walked into my house about a half hour ago. I’m still a little jumpy over it.

It’s okay, I’m okay, ’twas my neighbor’s friends who apparently got the houses confused… but I had been downstairs watching X-Files episodes, and it’s been long enough since I watched them that I was already on edge. And it was my own stupid fault… I had been out on my front porch sweeping it a bit (my place is looking a little worn down because I haven’t had time to mow or anything), and didn’t lock the door when I came back in. I think I’ve cured myself of that little slippage.

Anyway, I ran upstairs, yelling. I honestly don’t know what possessed me to do that, except the thought that if somebody was robbing me/waiting to rape me, I’d make enough of a ruckus to bring everybody in the neighborhood over. *shudders* They had left by the time I got up there, which is a good thing–I think I would have had a heart attack if I had actually seen somebody in my house.

I will not be telling this story to my parents. I can’t even imagine their freakoutage. But I am putting bats/heavy objects on the “to buy” list to keep by my doors.