home alone

One night a week, my husband, is gone to school in Memphis. Normally, so not a big deal. Really it's a night that I kind of look forward to. Get to sleep in any direction, on any side I want. I don't have to clean and then 10 seconds later reclean that very same spot that suspiciously my precious boy just left. I can do what ever I want with out having the pull of wanting to hang out at home with my punkin. It's normally great, but last night was different. It's really funny how when somebody is right next to you, don't really notice things. For example, the annoying tick that has being ticking since the day we moved in, sounds more like a big huge scary man trying to break in to rob me of my sense of security and sain ness, rather then just a timer tick that won't go away.
I also have a ridiculous way of convincing myself that someone is totally in our apartment and the only reason why I can't see or hear them is because they are hiding in some crazy place that normal sized people couldn't possibly fit in and are wearing some kind of super duper quiet shoes. Knowing full well that I checked every possible hiding place in our apartment, I convince my self that they some how sneakily crept in when I was in the bathroom or some other secludedarea of our home.
It's rediculous I know, but when I am home alone at night every sense of truth and reality seemed to have walked out the door and went to Memphis with my husband.
I need to work on this.