Having the Prime of My Life

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash

I tend to be so absorbed in what I’m working on, I’m oblivious to anything happening outside the task that I’m doing. Especially when I’m writing. And the habit has worsened with age.

This can prove dangerous at times or outright funny.

This was especially true when I lived alone in a small housing project while in Jacksonville, Florida. Since no harm was done, I laughed at the absurdity.

I had just settled in to tackle long overdue writing projects when the phone rang. My neighbor had called to give me a heads up.

“Got some bad news to tell you.”

I didn’t want to hear any bad news, but something told me I needed to. “Go ahead.”

“There’s been another break-in attempt yesterday.”

“On Mother’s Day?”

“Oh, yes. About 9:30 in the evening. On the other side of you.”

“Alvin and Lourdes’s house?”

“The rascals cut the wires underneath the meter box, disarming the alarm and power. Then they tried to break in with a screwdriver. Both Alvin and Lourdes were home at the time.”

I shivered with the realization.

Not only did the attempted robbery happen within a few feet of me, but I had been completely unaware of what was going on. Blissfully at my computer, I hadn’t noticed a thing—not even when the police and the power company had reportedly arrived soon after.

“Didn’t hear a thing,” I said. “I was writing.”

We laughed over my ostrich lifestyle.

My wonderful neighbor said if my house catches on fire, she’d be sure to call me and let me know so I could get out. Then again, I had a bad habit of leaving my phone somewhere else than where I was writing.

"C'est la vie."