I can't control my imagination sometimes

So I leave my apartment tonight to run an errand. I had just finished watching Heroes.
I open the door and shriek a little when I see my neighbors g/f bounding up the stairs. She laughed, because I made her shriek a little before as well when I apparently snuck up on her in the parking lot one morning.

So I was a little discombobulated. I get in my car and head out the front entrance of my apartment complex. I see a van, one of those white windowless vans a la "killers coming to abduct and dismember you" vans. As i drive towards the van (which is parked in the middle of the driving part of the parking lot) it flips on it's brights and starts backing up. So I keep driving towards it. It veers to my right, so I go my left. The van immediately veers to my left as well. When I veer to my right again it stays left and a hand starts waving wildly out the drivers window asking me to stop. :blink:
As if I have NEVER EVER watched a horror movie I stop. I roll my window down. The driver asked me how to find the 11 apartments. We have a ton in this complex, and for example my # is 1103. He kept trying to say 1165 but was pronouncing things wrong and stuttering a lot. So I said, 1165? He said yes that's it! So I said he should keep driving back the way I came from since my apartment number is 1103 :blink: (I'm sorry, did I just tell this strange man in a white windowless van my APARTMENT NUMBER?) He said thanks, and actually tips his hat and drives off towards my apartment.
I drive on my merry little way, and am getting ready to turn left onto Rt 4 when suddenly it hits me. OF COURSE!

Obviously the mans stuttering and confusion was merely a diversionary tactic and there is a KILLER that has somehow climbed into the backseat of my car ( of course without activating the dome light ). While this man is tracing my steps the other man is burgling my apartment and laying in wait for me to come back. Since I ran out so fast, I didn't bring my cell phone. I was on Yahoo IM with Katy before I left, so I can only hope that for SOME reason the burgler in my apartment decides to talk to her, she somehow senses that it's not me and calls the Cincinnati police department to report my imminent demise. I drive slowly there and back, tentatively glancing into the backseat as if I'm looking behind me to change lanes and see nothing...but that doesn't mean anything, these killers are tricky.
I actually end up following a police car down the Swanson shortcut, and hope that he somehow knows that there is a "perp" in my backseat and another one back at my apartment.

So I get home. I get out of my car quickly and slam the door shut. I look into the backseat. Nothing.
I take the stairs up, mentally preparing to shriek as loudly as possible so that my neighbors can hear me over the thumpa thumpa of their music. I slide my key in the door, I turn the lock, I squeak open the door...and I find that all of this is of course the result of my active imagination.

How am I ever going to survive living in a big house, all alone, with a basement. :-\