This morning I was thinking back on one of my favorite memories post college. After I was done with Baylor, I decided that a move to Dallas was for me. I moved to a low profile area of Dallas (Go big DUNCANVILLE! ha) b/c that was what I could afford, but just a few short minutes from my very best friend in the world. I moved into my first place by myself, and within a few months I landed a job as a Personal Assistant and Nanny for a Highland Park family.
Believe it or not, I was working a HIGH stress job. As much as I enjoyed the freedom of my job and the money I was making, I ALWAYS had stories, always had a complaint, always had a vent, always had a laugh with my friends Then we started something to this day, was one of my favorite things. My best friend said "I've got the best show in the world. Just watch one episode and you will be hooked." A group of almost 10 of us on any given occasion would get together and watch 'Alias', starting with season 1. We would watch up to 5 episodes a night. This show was so addictive to us and not to mention, we would work our whole night around this. We would make our plans starting in the morning about what we wanted to eat for dinner, where we were going to watch it and how many we were going to try to "get in." I didn't end up caring that I would get home past midnight and that I had to work early the next morning. We just HAD to finish all seasons before the next season started in the fall.
So we watched all night long and then i would drive home. I remember this feeling like it was yesterday. I would walk quickly to my car, get in and lock my doors. I would scurry out of the driveway and drive like mad the 5 minutes it took to get home. The entire ride home, every car that i saw, was following me. Someone was watching me. I could just feel it. SOMEONE was out to get me. I was sure there was some secret mission I would get pulled into. I prayed at the 3 stop lights that no one would get me and that i didn't have to use my awesome ninja skills that i only THOUGHT i had. Hey, if Sydney Bristow can kick but, so can I. And she never had a scar or scratch on her!
Then I would pull into my apartment complex, drive to the very back where I lived, run out of my car barely taking everything in that i needed, opening the door and slamming it behind me, the whole time watching my back at every move. Click. Click. Door locked. Shew! Another night of safety so I didn't have to kick the spy's sneaky butts.
As I think back on something so quirky, it makes me miss Brittany so much. She's dealt with my craziness, quirkiness, flightiness, stupid jokes, creativity, ideas, travels, moves, changes, etc. Although we don't get to see each other that often these days, me living in Nashville and her in Conway, she means the world to me.
Britt, thanks for making me feel like people are always following me.
It means the world..... (haha!) Love ya.