Thursday, January 15, 2009

So, A Priest Walks into a Bar...

...Except replace priest with escaped mental patient and bar with MY HOUSE and you'll have my Wednesday. Now, I know what you're thinking. On Monday, a hobo rubbed his nuts on my car... and now I'm telling you that an escaped mental patient tried to break into my house. Yeah, and by Friday Unicorns will be flying out of my ass singing the Star Spangled Banner. But I assure you, its true. I know this kind of stuff just doesn't happen to people. But it HAPPENS TO ME.
It was mid-afternoon and like always, I was parked in front of the computer with my headphones on. Usually I can't even hear the phone ring when I'm in such a position, but today I heard an unusual noise. I wasn't alone because the dogs heard it too and began their frenzied barking, running, sliding, nail-tapping ho-down at the front door. I was taking the headphones off, alarmed, and hurrying to gather them up when the front door opened and the outside light flooded down the hallway. My first instinct was that my father-in-law had stopped by, knocked, and I didn't hear. But before I reached the entryway, the door slammed shut. Odd.
So I gathered up the dogs and looked out my little peep-hole to see a figure meandering around on the driveway-- someone I certainly didn't know.
My fingers flew to the lock and I half ran to the bedroom to peer out the window and see if anyone's car was at the house that I recognized. To my dismay, there were no cars and the mysterious person was gone. I ran to check the back door lock and immediately IMed Mike, who called his dad, who came right over.
Turns out, my mystery guest had also stumbled next door where my brother-in-law, Chase lives and was prepared to guard the house. He saw her face and realized that she had some form of mental disability and the last he made out was her helping herself to the daycare across the street where we assume she had been taken care of because she was not seen or heard from again.
It was at this point, I learned that a home for the mentally disabled lie right around the corner. Yippeee!
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not a heartless bitch. Well, not always. After the fact I did feel really bad that she was lost and confused and I am very disturbed that she is wandering so close to a busy road. I hope she made it back to safety and I hope that the tard house keeps better tabs on their people. I was very close to becoming a special ed teacher and people with exceptional needs have always been close to my heart. I hate the idea that this woman was in danger. Yet still, the fact remains, a tard tried to break into my house and nearly gave me a heart attack.
So, to recap the events of my week thus far:
Hobo humpfest + Tard B and E = the story of my life. At least for the week of January 12-16.

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