Angry Wind Paranoia

I thought I heard somebody calling my name. It's why I'm up. I can't explain any other reason to pull myself from my bed at this hour other than I thought for sure someone - a man's voice -had called my name up the stairs. And it freaked me out.

Motionless in my bed, I ran through the list. Screen door locked, checked ... Front door locked, checked ... Back door locked, checked ... Windows, blinds all checked. Impossible and yet, what if someone were down there in my living room? What if there was a family emergency? What if I was only imagining it all and just wanted to go back to sleep?

And that's why I'm down here, tele presently on watching a Bridget Jone's trailer (I'm so seeing that this week) having checked every room, points of entry, and nabbing a cup of water in one fell swoop. Water because it's the only damn thing left in my empty fridge. Guess I can add grocery shopping to my list of things to do today, granted I wake up at a reasonable hour after all this.

The wind is blowing something fierce outside, angrily banging the wind chimes together in an eerie tune and I'm quite sure it was my outside broom that took a tumble just a moment ago with a big old smack against cement. Perhaps the wind was actually the voice I heard? Hmmm ...