Imagine that you get an email from someone mentioning a comment you’d left on her post. Just being friendly.
Except you didn’t leave the comment she’s written you about.
I’ve never been afraid to live alone. I do just fine. I don’t jump at every noise or fear someone’s in the house. I don’t jump at shadows. Now noises are another thing altogether. I jump at noises.
I’m not afraid now. I just think something eerie is going on. If it’s a ghost (if there are such things), that was a previous occupant, that’s okay. Just leave me be and I’ll do the same for them.
Because it seems to me that strange things have happened to me most all of my life. And I just want an ordinary day-to-day, nothing-much-happens, never-ever-go-out-after-5-p.m. kind of life. (Truth be told, it would be more like 3:30.)
I have had enough drama for a lifetime.
I am a creature of habit. I am one of those people that just can’t go outside the realm of what they normally do.
So what in the heck is going on?
(And if you’re wondering why I went a long stretch without a photo, it is because no matter how many times I tried, suddenly all my photos went down to the bottom of the page, to the right-hand side, and were quite tiny. I give up. I know, makes no sense whatsoever…)