Fear.

Nothing strikes a little fear in the heart of a woman living alone like an overly persistant wannabe rebound showing up on your doorstep unannounced.

This is why I thank God for pit bulls and handguns. Douchebag tried being clever, talking about "how much tension he could relieve for me" if only i'd let him in the door. When "fuck off" fell on deaf ears, he informed me (with a predatory grin) that I was "lucky he was feeling polite and choosing to stay outside", to which I responded with a gun in his face, my big-headed pit bull snarling at my side (love how dogs pick up emotions, and love how outrageously protective Kilo is of me), and a clear-cut, no-bullshit statement letting Mr. Pricktastic know that he had 30 seconds to get his ass off my property before I pumped him full of lead and let Kilo have the rest while I called the cops. I also let him know that if I ever saw his face on my property I would assume he was attempting rape and would shoot first, ask questions later.

Douchebag. Did not know who he was fucking with.

Obviously, I've been on fairly high-alert since then. Luckily, spazztastic little Blue barks when someone shuts their car door three blocks away; he actually heard Pricktastic's car before I did and gave me the invaluable 15 seconds it took to get my gun and make sure there was one in the chamber. Blue's like a freaking alarm system, and Kilo's all muscle. Love my dogs.

I am more than willing to admit I am a prideful, stubborn and overly trash-talking woman. I do not tolerate threats, period. That being said, someone showing up on my doorstep unexpectedly and expecting to be able to simply talk and/or force their way into my bed shook me up a little. I definitely have spent the last couple days with my gun constantly within 2 seconds' reach, one in the chamber, safety engaged.

The funny thing about fear and my stubborness: I hate being scared. I usually get over my fear by getting really, really pissed off that I let something/someone have any kind of control over my life, my mind and my heart.

Pissed off Lace is not someone you want to mess with.

That being said, I'm off to sleep; mostly pissed as hell, slightly scared, and overall, blessed. I have a roof over my head, a dependable car, an income, food, and two stupid dogs who snuggle the shit out of me and keep me warm at night.

Amen.