How not to get murdered

It’s 10:30 and I can’t quite seem to get out of bed. I don’t know exactly why. I just woke up and thought I’d get up and then I didn’t. A sudden decision isn’t always unreasonable. Even if you don’t know what the reason is. And don’t you judge me. It’s not my faulty you have a 9-5 job.

And I don’t know how not to get murdered. If you see a big headline that says WOMAN WHO DIDN’T KNOW HOW NOT TO GET MURDERED IS MURDERED you’ll know I never did figure it out. Oh, and that headline? It will probably be above the fold on the front page and continued on pages 4D, 5D, and 6D, and will probably mention how much I detested Mary Fallin, Wayne LaPierre, and Paul Ryan’s PX-90 ass. And that I’ll be mourned by Jon Stewart and Eric Clapton.

While trying to determine the best way, and by “best way,” I mean “any way,” not to get murdered, I read up on our security system. Do you know the alarm won’t be tripped if somebody opens the window from the outside? It only sounds if somebody breaks the window. I don’t know what genius came up with that one. Probably a criminal.

I mean, what the f%#k? Serial killers can’t open windows? Please. So can burglars and other people who would want to murder me. And those people who monitor the alarm ought not to call me when the alarm goes off. They ought to call the police. By the time they get done calling me and me not answering, me and Jim and the cats could all be murdered.

And just because people forget the alarm is on and open the door to feed the cats quite a few times doesn’t mean they’re not being murdered this time. Not that I’ve ever done that. And even if I had, it doesn’t mean I deserve to be murdered. I don’t care what Jolene at the security company office says. She’s paid to respond, no matter how many times it happens. To random people who definitely aren’t me.

And what about the carport? When I came home the other night and it was dark I called Jim in the house to come and get me, and he told me to get my ass in the house and quit being a baby. It took twenty minutes for him to give up that ridiculous idea and come out. Do you have any clue how dead I could have gotten in that twenty minutes? And when he did come out there, it was only because he wanted me in the house so he could set the alarm. Like that’s going to help.

Yesterday he put up motion-activated flood lights and I came home last night and everything lit up. I just don’t think a lot of thought went into that project. If they steal stuff in broad daylight the’d murder me in broad flood light.

Huh. I guess maybe that’s why I won’t get out of bed. Maybe sudden decisions are not only reasonable, but wise.