Confession #3: I am afraid of my own shadow

You know how when you were a little kid, your mom wouldn't let you watch scary shows or movies before bed? I still remember sneaking out to watch "Salem's Lot" on TV one night. I don't think I had a good night's sleep for the following 9 months.

Things spook me. Not normal things like graveyards (see previous blog). But completely abnormal things like creaking floorboards, attics and birds (don't get me started on birds, but while you're judging me - think for a second about how unpredictable birds are and tell me they're the slightest bit trustworthy).

I also am a 34-year-old woman who occasionally checks her closet and behind doors before bed. Not all the time, in fact rarely - except for when I watch a scary movie.

Just the other night I rented "Zodiac" and I had a brief moment where I thought "maybe I should wait until tomorrow at 7pm, rather than 10pm tonight", but I quickly brushed those thoughts aside because I am, after all, a grown woman. And well, Jake Gyllenhaal is hot and not bad to think about at bedtime.

Stupid, stupid me. I am often times amazed at my stupidity. More amazing is my frequent ignorance of said stupidity. Quite simply - I ought to know better.

But I watched the stupid movie (okay, the movie wasn't stupid, but I'm deflecting here) - and come 12:30am I'm checking behind doors, in closets and yes, even under my bed. (Believe me when I tell you that with the 47 rolls of wrapping paper stored there - not even Gary Coleman could fit under my bed, but even that is not a comfort when one has the "creeps").

So, why don't we learn from our mistakes? Why don't we think twice? Why don't we, for the love of god, listen to our mothers?

I don't know. But I'm going to think about that long and hard before I rent my next movie from the "Thriller" section at Blockbuster. Until then, well, one more peek under the bed couldn't hurt, could it?