Well, earlier this week I finalized my first draft of the blog post for the company’s intranet. Turns out the CEO’s assistant is on holidays, so the HR manager offered to send it directly to the CEO. I’m not sure if she has, and I’m not sure what he’s going to say, but I hope it will be positive or at least some constructive criticisim. Will keep you “posted” (pun intended).
In the meantime, onto the story behind today’s title:
Twice now I have laid in bed and thought someone was tapping on my window. (I found the window in the common hall open once, and there are no bars or screens, so if someone wanted to jump out onto the roof, they easily could … it’s a flat one, and my bathroom and bedroom window are just to the left of that window.) Anyway, here’s how it goes:
“Tick, tick, tick. [slight pause]. Pfffffsh.”
My breath jumps out of my chest and scurries under my bed. My heart plays a rapid congo. One eye bolts open, the hairs on neck and arms stands at end. The second eye opens, and all I can hear is blood rushing through my ears. My eyes take in the bathroom window, my bedroom window, my nightstand, my floor, the bedroom door, and over. My brain screams “hit the floor!” and “Turn on the lights!” and “Turn off the lights!” at the same time. I lay there like that for a good minute until I hear nothing more. I slowly sit up, climb out of bed, re-pull the blinds shut, re-check the window locks and dowl rod-stoppers, and crawl back into bed.
Now my mind wanders. Was someone really outside? If they were, what would I do? If I had a heart-attack from just thinking about an attacker one of these nights … what would I do?
Turns out, I think, that each time it has been my bedroom door opening slightly – where it’s no longer sitting tightly in the doorframe, but laying just against it — because the wind has shifted through my apartment.
I know I am safe – I have an alarm system, there are security dowl-rods in each door and window frame, and most of all, I live on the top floor of the building. Even the elevator doesn’t service my floor, it stops at the floor below.
Anyway, I think these are normal fears that sometimes cross over into paranoia. I look at it this way – if one day I find myself in the worse case scenario at least I have a plan. And in my book, that’s better than being caught without one.
), 3) The hospital system here is kind of comparable to that in the U.S., with the benefit being that there is significantly less paperwork to fill out. And overall, 4) I totally dislike being in a cast.
