(no subject)

I used to love living alone. But there’s nothing quite like being summoned from the shower at 2:20 in the morning by the insistent knock of a police officer warning you about a man staring through you and your neighbor’s front windows.
This, coupled with the fact that (apparently) there’s a serial rapist on the loose in Lawrence makes for happy sleep time.
I’m tiptoeing around my own home, I have pepper spray by my bed, and I’m afraid to go into my own living room lest a bad man be standing, looking in the small diamond-windows of my front door.

Yay solitude.