I wonder how many feel the way I do. Unsafe in this world. It's a subtle paranoia that creeps on me every so often. When I go outside and see that patio chair has been broken, or my children's flower pots have been stolen (what's up with that) while my neighbors' things have been left undisturbed. When a neighbor moves in and parks on the street where we've been parking. Not because it's closer to their residence, but because they just want to take something from us. Their assigned parking is closer to them than the street parking.
Phone conversations with haughty, apathetic customer service representatives. The inability to get a check cashed in a bank that I have an account with. Businesses not returning messages. My son's doctor that refuses to answer the phone (or as I suspect, deliberately sends everything to voicemail when they don't feel like doing their jobs) so that I have to wait a week to get the same prescription refilled every month. My daughter's teacher who carelessly misinforms her and leaves her anxious because she trusts the teacher as an authority figure.
All these things make me feel insecure in this world. I'm surrounded by people whom I think would walk past my daughter if she were hurt on her way to and from school. My son's school has already proven that they don't care if they endanger his health because they don't want to administer the medication that he has in the nurse's office. My husband has been in a bind more than once where no one would help him when he's been stranded on the side of the road.
Me, I'm just thankful that no one has decided to shoot me dead. Would there even be an investigation? I think even my so-called friends would merely say, "Oh, that's tragic and move on pretty quickly."
I live in this world, but I'm not apart of this world. Every day that I step out in it is a reminder of that.
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