When I was about eleven years old a man attempted to break into our house. I was home alone, as the summer had just began, and was watching television in our den, which was located on the side of the house and equipped with a sliding glass door that led out to the backyard. At some point, I heard a car in the driveway and, like the well-taught latchkey kid that I was, I stayed put, as no one was expected to drop by and it was a bit odd that the person had pulled all the way up our very long driveway to the rear of the house.

I went back to watching the Price is Right until I heard a knock at the back door. Muting the television, I listened. There were footsteps, as if the person was walking away. Then, just as I went to pump the sound once more, there was a loud, cracking thud that could only be attributed to someone trying to break a window. It was one of those moments when you freeze and anything you have been taught about proper procedure falls to the wayside. I dropped to the ground, lay flat on the floor and proceeded to make one of the dumbest, fear-motivated maneuvers on my personal record: I unlatched the sliding glass door, opened it and peered outside.

In a flash, the man fled from our patio into his car, revved the engine and sped away. It took me nearly ten minutes to get up enough courage to crawl into the kitchen, grab the phone and call...my father. His secretary then contacted the police. I cannot tell you how lucky I was in this situation. The man ran, the window did not actually break and he was dumb enough to leave the brick that he used on our doorstep.

So anyway, my nightmare recounted this experience to some degree, except the outcome was not as rosy, and at some point, just before I woke, I yelled out "STEAKHOUSE!" in a weird, childlike voice, which freaked Alexis out and scared all of the cats off of the bed. I have no idea how this memory was uprooted and brought to the surface, but now I am less than enthusiastic about sleeping and even less spirited about the front door to our apartment building, which for some reason is now refusing to close automatically (read: people actually have to pull it closed, which they rarely do).