It's been a long couple of days, which probably led to some of the spleen venting tonight. Without going into what all - which mostly is just usual headaches, work, a bathroom being remodeled (arrgh!!) etc. I will say this - sitting in your living room watching your breath steam out because you have a heater issue when it's about 6 degrees out will alternately get and take your attention.
Without being too melodramatic, most of us likely think of our homes as a fairly safe place. When you are sitting in it and the temperature literally drops to a point that could kill you, it just gives you a sense of perspective somehow.
Yes, we were fine and had many options - a hotel, friends, family, etc. I am not trying to make the point that we were somehow in great peril. What I am saying is that when some place you think is so much your own and so very safe becomes not-so - it does get into your head, somehow.
Years ago, in another house, my home was broken into while I was asleep. At least until I woke up, grabbed my pistol and called down that I was coming down the steps locked and loaded and with complete and utter disregard for his fucking Miranda rights. Fortunately for us both he had the good sense to beat feet before I got there. And I damned sure would have fired - twice. The second shot would have been easy, clean and applied without regret. If some fool wants to cross a line that shouldn't be crossed ( and I don't mean stealing) well, then he's a fool. And I have never suffered such gladly, I guess.
But that doesn't change what he took from me for a time - just a feeling, a certain ease to which one becomes accustom. My heart goes out to all good people everywhere who struggle - with life, health, home - who don't have that feeling. It's hard to survive without it and we all deserve it. Maybe that's why I would have reacted as I would have to a burglar. He was taking something far more important than possessions from me. Also, I don't put everyone in one basket regardless of their race, creed, color or circumstance. And I mean that.
But I'll also damn sure make fun of them AND myself on my blog if I decide to. I look at it this way, life is short and a joke, even a sick one, is a hell of a lot less painful or permanent that a second clean shot to the back of the head. So, what's to worry? ; )
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