I don’t protect the things I own very well. I worry about things constantly, but I don’t do much to protect them. Maybe that’s why I worry.
My heart? Nope. I’m not one of those women who guard their heart and are afraid to love again because they’ve been hurt before. I willingly offer mine up to be crushed time and time again. In fact, sometimes I practically beg people to break it.
My apartment? Never owned renter’s insurance. I thought about it, and I even thought about looking into it, but I never went so far as to actually consider it. If it burned down one day, well, that would suck.
My body? No, not even that is worth protecting, apparently. I don’t have health insurance right now and, while it freaks me out consistently, somehow I don’t find that it’s worth the $400 a month to get it on my own.
I leave things exposed to the elements. If they get hurt or charred or bruised, I deal with it when it happens. That’s just how I am.
That’s kind of a dumb way to be.
So yesterday, although I’ve never had a case for any of the computers I’ve owned in the past, I decided to get one for my latest laptop. I hope it realizes how privileged it is to be getting this special treatment. I hope it doesn’t think that just because I’m finally trying to protect it, it can go ahead and crack and fall apart and burst into flames. Just because I’m physically prepared for it, that doesn’t mean I’m mentally ready for it.