Can’t live with em, Can’t live without em: A Woman Alone

Written by guest blogger Meredith Vanhousen.

After two failed marriages, I decided it was time to go it alone. The only thing I took from my ex-husband was a beat up old pair of his cowboy boots, not as a souvenir, but to put at my front door so that strangers who came knocking would think there was a man inside. A big mean cowboy.

I bought my house on a busy street so that if “the intruder” came I could run out and flag somebody down. I introduced myself to my neighbors and after getting the scoop on the ones who were nice, I told them I was alone and said I would appreciate them keeping an eye out when my car was gone. They agreed to if I would periodically take them cookies or beer to thank them.

I call my daughter before I go to sleep at night and in the morning when I get up. I sleep with my cell phone, a shrill whistle around my neck and a bat. I have a table next to my bed with a tablecloth over it so I can hide if I have time. I’m still paying for the divorce so I have to wait to activate the alarm equipment I had installed. I’m thinking I just ought to reconsider this living alone thing and take a leap of faith on a third husband, but then I break out in hives. And remind myself why I haven’t gotten a dog.