2001-10-02 - 11:01 a.m.

On the internal soundtrack: "How Much Is That Doggy in the Window?"

So, I had a little bit of a meltdown this morning.

It's funny in retrospect, and it was even funny at the time. I didn't sleep well last night, so I was tired this morning, and then several things happened in a row that try my emotions and patience on the best of days. The next thing you know I'm having a full-blown crying jag, hitching breaths and all, in the garage.

The list of things I was crying about include:

- Fear that the best job for Poindexter will be someplace I don't want to live (including my present location).
- Fear that I'll have to leave this place after getting somewhat attached to it for a lot of good reasons
- Fear that Poindexter will be unhappy and have a tough time finding a job he really likes
- Distress that I was so late getting to work when I want to spend time with my MIL in the evening
- Frustration at being unable to locate an important address I needed today
- Frustration at being unable to locate the book of stamps I bought last night to replace another book of stamps I've been unable to locate
- The low-grade but ever-present fear and paranoia because of the attacks
- Terrible sadness for the people who died and for their families whose lives are completely shattered right now
- Poindexter being nice and sweet and funny and perfect

Funny how when I'm upset, if someone is nice to me, I fall apart even more. He was hugging me and laughing at me in the garage and kissing my tears and making me feel better even as I kept crying, because it was one of those times when I just needed and wanted to cry, and so I did.

And I do feel much better. Nothing's been resolved (I still don't know where the goddamn stamps are), but I let off a little steam. Funny how that works.

(Point of clarification: When Poindexter laughs at me, it's never, ever a negative thing. He laughs because I'm being cute and funny and because he loves me and knows I'm going to be okay. It's never a belittling thing. When my husband laughs at me, I feel special and cherished and loved -- none of the things people ordinarily feel when they're laughed at. Poindexter laughing is always uplifting to me.)

So, I've been reading a lot about how more people are buying guns these days. Very interesting. I find myself hoping they're learning how to use them properly and practicing with them at the range. There's nothing stupider than buying a gun and sticking it in the night table drawer and forgetting about it.

I think maybe these people are buying guns for the same reason that I did, essentially. Something that the WTC/Pentagon attacks really drive home.

When it comes to my personal safety, I am the last line of defense. If I want to have a free society, where people can come and go as they wish, it is not possible for the police or the military to protect me from every harm. If someone's breaking into my house, there's no guarantee that the police will get there in time to protect me. The only person who can protect me at that point is me.

There are other possible weapons, of course. Baseball bats, kitchen knives, what have you. But the gun is the only one that is small enough and concealable enough and allows me to fight back from a comparatively safe distance. I can shoot an intruder from across the room, but to hit him with the baseball bat I have to be close enough for him to grab it away from me. Not to mention, the gun is the one that is most likely to make him turn tail and run without me having to shoot.

When I was younger, I wasn't sure if I would be able to kill someone even when my own life or the life of a loved one depended on it. I'm much more certain now.

I certainly hope I never, ever have to put this to the test. And I will go out of my way to avoid it. But as long as the possibility is there that I might have to face this kind of situation, however small that possibility may be, I want to be able to defend myself in the best way possible.

I forgot to mention our shopping trip on Sunday. MIL went with me to what she keeps referring to as the "white trash mall", which I like because it's cheap. I explained to her what I was trying to accomplish -- no more baggy, frumpy clothes -- and Poindexter sent us on our way with the edict, "The word of the day is 'tight'."

My MIL has wonderful fashion sense. She shops at Marshall's most of the time, and is always telling me about the shirt she got for $7, but she always manages to look extremely well-dressed. She helped me pick out several outfits and rejected a few others because -- I kid you not -- they looked too "suburban" and "conservative" for a "city mouse" like me.

I had to laugh. Remember what I said? I dress like a soccer mom. I am drawn to conservative clothes but then am not happy with how I look at them later. Good thing she caught me.

I got three outfits out of our shopping trip. I'll post photos when I wear them.

Thing is, I bought a couple pairs of pants that cost $50 and $60. This is VERY HARD for me to do. I'm such a cheapskate. Usually I won't pay more than $30 for any article of clothing. But they look great on me, and I figure, I'll get a lot of wear out of them, right? I have three pairs of pants I spent $30 each for three years ago and they're completely worn out now.

Sigh. Why do I have to be such a miser? Buying clothes just seems so frivolous, somehow. But I'm supporting the economy, right? :)

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