I tell that little weird fact about me so I can tell this story:
So, today I'm minding my own business, going on the power struggle that is my everyday walk with Joey, when I notice a helicopter. It's Orlando. There's tons of traffic and other reasons for a helicopter to be flying around all the time, right? No. This helicopter? Obviously looking for somebody who just went on a killing spree and is heading right for me. Do I warn the mailman 1/2 a mile down the road? Do I start knocking on doors and telling people? WHAT DO I DO?! This is my actual thought process. After weighing my options, Joey and I hightailed it out of there. We covered a little over a mile in seven minutes. Nothing like a non-existent, crazed gunman on the loose to scare me into a little extra cardio. After we were safely in my very locked up house, I turned the TV on and searched the Internet to see if they caught this crazy man, and believe it or not, he doesn't exist.
I would love to say this is the first time I've reacted to something like this, but it's not. It's not even the second, third, or twentieth. At least once a day I refuse to answer a knock on my front door, peak through my blinds with my phone ready to call 911, because somebody had the nerve to drive past my house more than once in a hour, or I yell at somebody walking too close (less than a mile) behind me when I'm jogging to 'Stop following me!'.
Do you have any idea how many episodes of Criminal Minds start out with a 20 something year old girl minding her business? ALL OF THEM. They may not me running a story on Dateline about my husband trying to kill me, but that's only because I don't have one. You just wait. Somebody's husband will try one day....
I bet you guys didn't think when I started a blog you would be introduced to the actual nut job that is this crazy girl right here, did you? It gets worse. I hope you all have a new level of respect for my boyfriend. He has his hands full over here.