I Do Get To The Point....Eventually

As long as I can remember I've always been somewhat preoccupied with the fear of my house being broken into. This scares me even more than those evil, manipulative napkins. And I know people always say everything gets blame on the MOTHER, but I’d like to believe this fear actually is my mother's fault. This is because when I was a child we would often watch Unsolved Mysteries together before going to bed. I became convinced that the kidnappers, robbers, & murderers on the show were watching me as I watched the show, and were going to take their revenge on me as soon as I laid down. And it didn't help that the tree outside my window put a shadow on my wall that looked like a gigantic hand! I slept on the floor in my mother's room for many years, though she doesn't seem to have much recollection of any of this. Selective memory, I say.

Flash forward ten years, now I am an unemployed, adult who stays up until 4 AM every night err morning. I'm living in one of the busiest places in the United States, and I always hear a few noises every night that make my heart leap out of my chest & have me reaching for something to club the culprit with (high heel shoes, anyone). Honestly, I really have fewer reasons to worry about burglars now that I am living with a dog the size of a small pony, Sarah.
I know she doesn't look very intimidating in this picture that was snapped right after she had been groomed. And believe me when I picked her up last Saturday, I couldn't help but drive her crazy by singing, "I feel pretty, oh so pretty, I feel pretty, & witty, & bright.” (Which she told me was far less annoying than that day I kept telling her that I was so hungry, I could eat her whole in one bite). But the truth is Sarah would totally take someone's leg off if the situation called for it.
So far there has been nothing weird about my new neighborhood, other than the meat stealing man, that has validated any of my fears. That is until Saturday morning when I was lounging in the bedroom watching TV, and Adam was in the living room playing Grand Theft Auto IV. I heard glass shattering, and for a split second I thought maybe it was on Adam's game. And then I wondered if he had broken one of the glass panels on the front door, just like I accidentally did last week (whoops). The exact moment that I had gotten out the phrase, "Was that on the Game?" I saw a man running through our fenced in backyard...
Adam didn't believe me; he thought it was my overactive imagination. At that moment, I wanted to use my overactive imagination to shove my foot up his ass. I knew what I had seen. "But the gate is LOCKED," he said. But there was no denying that we both had heard the shattering glass. So he went outside to investigate, while I stayed inside freaking the eff out. Adam came in and gave me a look that said, "You Wont Believe What Happened," and "I'm About to Have to Admit That You Were Right and That Pains Me."
Apparently a man who was visiting a friend, who lives in the apartments behind our house, had a tiny bit of a screw loose. He got paranoid, jumped out the second story window, plunged 20 feet into our backyard, took off running, and then launched himself over our fence! We even had the massive amount of broken glass in our backyard to prove it.
My whole life I have been worried about burglars coming in the middle of the night. When what I really needed to be worried about was men jumping out of second story windows in the middle of the day.