So far this week is a trying one. My husband possibly broke one of his toes so he is hobbling around. We found out it could be as late as April before we know anything about a possible move (isn't it so nice of them to leave us ample time to sell our current house and purchase a new one so we will have a freakin place to live if we do make the move) and my husband's store was robbed. ...and it's only Tuesday. Granted, I suppose this all means my husband is technically the one having a crummy week and I'm just riding his shirt tale.
The toe will heal so no major worries there, the move...I think I'd rather not talk about it now since I'm both saddened and angry that my life will have no resolution for months, but the robbery I feel like my husband isn't safe regardless of where he works.
A couple months before the girls were born my husband was attacked my masked gunmen who robbed the pharmacy he worked at in Durham, NC. With the way the pharmacy handled the situation we knew we had to get out of Durham and we did. But now, he's getting robbed in a small, mainly retirement community and I feel like nowhere is safe.
I understand that this is a complete blow up on my part since this time a gun wasn't involved and no one was hurt. However, the fact remains that given my husband's chosen field it doesn't seem to matter where we live this could/will happen.
I just fear that one day he or his employees won't be so lucky and someone will be seriously hurt. I also hope that this is the most excitement we see this week. Until the end of the week I'm contemplating just climbing under the covers and staying there. Maybe I'll just stay in the house the remainder of the time I live here.
The children in the neighborhood can ride their bikes past my house saying, "that's where that crazy lady lives who won't leave her house." They can all dare each other to come and ring the doorbell to see what I do.
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