A burglar disturbs me

Funny, but I thought I was coping alright yesterday.

Most of the day was taken up with hanging around waiting for, or actually dealing with, people connected in one way or another with the break-in. SOCO; the locksmith (who doubled up as the boarder-upper); the window guy who is going to make and fit something a little more secure and less easy to chisel out; the police returning to take a full statement.

Nikki had stayed at home for mutual moral support, and also in case SOCO needed elimination prints, so we spent a relatively busy day coping with all that, and trying to get some work done at the same time.

As the day slowed down into evening and the evening, in turn, wore on, I became aware of a growing feeling of unease. Starting with a faint fluttering in the tum, and graduating into a tight feeling in the chest via an inability to concentrate on the TV we were watching and faint nausea. I soon realised what it was. I didn't want to go to bed. I didn't want to risk falling asleep and waking up again with someone trying to break in.

Completely irrational, of course. For a start they'll be long gone by now. Even if they intended to come back and try the keys they nicked, they'll give it a few days. Secondly with the window boarded up, any further attempts to break in will be a lot noisier. And lastly, I'd worked out a way of making it impossible to open the cloakroom door from the inside. At least, without destroying the door. So I was able to tell myself, intellectually, that we were more secure than we had been.

Didn't help though.