Unreasonable Worries

I am a full-grown woman.

I have lived alone. I have moved halfway across the country, to a state where I didn't know a single soul, and moved in with a total stranger, without hesitation or a backwards glance.

I have faced down vicious dogs bent on devouring my face, prize bulls that could have killed me without noticing, and snakes large enough to swallow me.

I have gotten into fistfights, and won them. I have hitchhiked home from Seaside Heights at 3am. I have dealt with many scary things. There is absolutely no reason why I should be afraid to go into the basement of my own house when I'm home alone and it's almost midnight.

It's a nice basement. Clean, dry, well-lit, open, easy to move around in. There is nothing scary down there - no bugs, no drainage holes making schlorpy noises, no monsters or axe murderers. The light is even on already. My laundry is down there, dry and waiting for me to bring it upstairs so I can get dressed for work in the morning. I'd have no problem going down there if my husband were home.

I need my laundry.

It's just the basement.

Maybe it can wait until he gets back...... there might be a bug down there. Or a demonic clown. Or... you know. Tentacle fiends.

Or tentacled bugs in clown masks.

Now I'm never going to sleep tonight.

Stupid laundry.