Valentines Day Massacre

So my Valentines day consisted of hosting an afternoon with tattoo artist. So insane, but so true. KC, who is an amazing tattoo artist, came over to work on a rework of a peacock tatt for my dad and to do this little number:

It was a nice time and I am very excited to get my Jimmy Eats ink before the upcoming show. It's something I have always wanted to get but just couldn't decide where to get it. It was a nice day, I got to see my parents, watch a movie with my ma, hang out with KC and then I did a little shopping with Hubs afterward. I was so incredibly tired by the time everyone left and all was said and done. This is not a normal statement for me so I went to hit the hay early. I took a quick shower and went out to the kitchen afterward to get my A & D meds for my fresh new tat and my deck door was ajar. My littlest cat, Anthony walked in from outside and I froze. Stunned. The reasoning: that back door is never opened unless we are grilling out and we have not done that for weeks. No one had used the deck during the day, as far as I knew and I am SUPER, dooper, anal about checking the doors before I leave for work every day. *cough, cough..therapy* To the point of mild OCD. I know this door was locked. I quickly called my parents to see if they had went outside on the deck during the course of the day, or unlocked the door. My parents declined this and also stated that KC, also, did not go outside.

I was pretty creeped out. This made sleep harder to come after I checked every closet, bathroom, under every bed and in ever corner for a mass murderer. I'm sure someone must have unlocked the door at some point but even with the's one of those new french doors that has a latch like handle. You have to push it down and the door opens inward so my Anthony, could not have pulled the door open.

I don't know, all in all, creepy night. Once again, fueling the OCD fire of checking the doors. Way to go on my end!


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