Fearless

Here's how I found out I'm no longer afraid to live. Last night, my mischievious little husband told me about a series of break-ins happening around our neighborhood. I say mischievious because I think he likes to see me squirm sometimes - in other words, he thought by telling me about this new development, I would flip out.

Not one to disappoint, I did flip out a little, thinking about ridiculous possibilities like What if they break in during the day and let the cat and dog out? What if they break in at 2am and my insomniac self is hanging out in the living room watching infomercials? What if they decide to take all of our ::GASP:: food?!?!

Mid-mini meltdown, however, I realized my heart really wasn't in it. I was just acting out my typical response without really thinking about it - in other words, it was an automatic response.

I then proceeded to disappoint my husband by saying, "Oh well, we don't really have anything worth stealing anyway." Because in my head, what I was really thinking was Wow, I have actually managed to quit my unhealthy attachment to all our STUFF. The chief concern in my mind was the safety of my pets (and of course my hubby). I'm not too worried about me, though. I have a feeling that if someone knocked on my door at 2:30am (which is how the intruders approached their first victim's house), I'd just invite them in for coffee. What's the harm in being kind to common burglars? Either way, they're going to take my stuff...at least if I offer them coffee, I have a far lesser risk of ending up unconscious on the floor. Who's gonna turn down free caffeine at 2:30am when they clearly have to stay awake long enough to finish the job and evade the police?

Still, why wasn't I bothered by the thought of someone invading my home, privacy, and sense of safety? Shouldn't I be more concerned about losing my precious iMac and way-too-large T.V.? But all I could think about was what a burglar's face might look like if I was waiting at the door with a mug of coffee and some cookies. Like waiting for Santa Claus, right? Except instead of a white beard, red suit, and sack in his hand, you're facing some dudes in ski masks, possibly armed, sacks in hand for a whole other reason. Wouldn't that just completely throw them off if I welcomed them, asked them to come in and take what they wanted? That's why I've got insurance, right? (Though I'm not so sure our insurance company would want to fund the replacement of stuff I essentially gave away.) Anyway, what could they possibly steal that would mean anything to me to lose?

I slept pretty good last night, despite my best attempts at reliving that awful, gnawing fear I've lived with forever. I did have nightmares about burned cookies, though...

t.