Just Call Me 007

So I always wanted to be a spy. There was a brief time when I was in the service that I actually underwent some mysterious questioning that resulted from a little in-house profiling... something about my security clearance and loner status and who knows what else. Whatever it was, none of it matters now. I ceased pursuing anything remotely interesting when I fell into that crazy thing called love. Plus the fact that I was told there would be times even my mom would not be able to know my location. I'm too needy for all that drama.

That's a true story, by the way, and I have no regrets. When it comes down to it, all I ever really wanted out of life was to be a wife and a mom. I suppose that's why I've always enjoyed the whole homemaker thing. Of course, espionage might have been more exciting than cleaning the toilet that I talked about yesterday, but hey... at least I'm here when the kids get home from school.

Thank goodness for books. They take me to places I would otherwise never go. My new favorite author has a whole spy series that I am absolutely hooked on. These are books I would actually be willing to spend money on... they're that good. And if you have learned anything about me, it's that I have this crazy compulsion to buy things in sets, so if there is one book or five or eight... well, I'm going to have to get them all. Right now, though, I'm just depending on my local library and my one free-hour-at-a-time nook reading at Barnes & Noble.

I spent an hour there today catching up on the fictional life of CIA Agent Mitch Rapp. (Or maybe he's FBI. Or NSA. Or another alphabet trio). Whichever it is, I definitely get caught up in it. As I was leaving I caught myself glancing over my shoulder or getting an idea of what was taking place behind me by the store window reflections. I had to laugh at myself.

But then again, I always think like that. Let me walk into any room and I will do a mental checklist of the people there before I focus on anything else. It's like my mind is wired to note certain things and then decide if something is out of place. I'm always on alert in a parking lot. I pay attention to exit signs. I watch cars in the rearview mirror.

(I'm giving away too much information here, am I not?)

Oh well. Such is life. We all have our little quirks. I don't like to think of mine as paranoia, mind you; just a heightened sense of awareness.

Yeah. That sounds so much better.

Ahhh... but that's the joy of reading. I can be traveling the world uncovering botched assassination attempts one week and then living the life of an 1800s rancher's housekeeper the next. I can typically find almost any story to match my mood and I can always count on a book to pass the time.

Even if I did choose the role of a housewife instead of saving my country by living a double life. It just wasn't meant to be.