29 August 2013

knock knock ding dong

I hate when people knock on the door. I get all nervous, like who could possibly be knocking on my door, and for what? And for a split second before I open it, I always wonder if it's someone coming to rape and murder me. I blame that bit of paranoia 100% on my father.

Only a few times has it been good- like when Suzy dropped by, or when the neighbor came by to introduce herself and give me an Avon catalog. Or the tamale lady.

Other than that, it's been my meddling neighbors, the lawn guy, or, tonight, two dudes who looked like they wanted to talk to me about God. It was already dark so I thought that was weird. They asked if a previous tenant was home and I said that he doesn't live here anymore. Then I paused, and they just stood there looking at me. So I smiled and said, "Have a nice night!" and they barely moved to leave. By then I was already closing the door.

I think I'll feel better about answering the door when Chris comes home. I'll just feel safer overall.

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