The Break In

Those of you who are friends with Barrett on facebook may have read a bit about our big break in last week. Why, you might ask, would anyone bother breaking into our little run down rental when we are surrounded by so many lovely homes that probably have things worth stealing in them?
One reason: because the other houses weren’t harboring an imaginary person named Trudi which apparently we were.
It happened like this — there I was doing the Very Important Work of healing from surgery (this involves a lot of sleeping) and some time around 12 in the morning or so, I was woken up by a violent banging sound. I poked Barrett. He mumbled something about the upstairs neighbors who work odd hours. More violent banging. I poked him again and said “I’m pretty sure it’s not the neighbors.”
Bravely standing two rooms away and around behind the door, I listened while Barrett hunted down the source of the sound.
“Um, hello?” Barrett, still half-asleep and befuddled, from our kitchen.
Bang, bang, bang, “I want Trudi. You’re hiding Trudi. Let me in to get Trudi.”
“Uh yeah, Trudi doesn’t live here. In fact, I don’t know anyone named Trudi. Hey, did you break the locks off the screen doors? You did, you broke the doors!”
“The guy upstairs told me to.”
“You need to leave.”
Some more back and forth about Trudi. Then, “Can I at least come in for a glass of water?”
“You broke two of our doors, I’m not giving you a glass of water.”
The guy wandered off our back porch and we called the police.
They asked us to look outside to see where the guy went.
Barrett checked out back, didn’t see anything, checked out front and THERE HE WAS, LOOKING BACK IN!!!
Eek!
So the cops came, talked to our upstairs neighbor who had not told the guy to break down our back door, ID’ed the guy and discovered that he was off his meds and had all sorts of other colorful incidences on record. “The guy upstairs” was a voice in his own head. Lovely. As the cops were doing their thing, our upstairs neighbor’s girlfriend came home from work just in time to be frightened by the sight of two squad cars in front of our place and to get cursed at by the crazy guy who’d tried to break in.
*sigh*
Life is not boring here.
In other news, I’m healing up fine. Bizarre how quickly I went from being held together just by glue and two stitches to having the skin grow together to give me three lovely scars in my mid-section.
And I still have eight and a half more days of chemo-less freedom!
Love to you all,
Bridget