Housebound

I keep getting email alerts directed "to women" to advise me of the various dangers I might face upon leaving my house every day. To this point, I've been warned about:

Getting out of my car to take post-its off the back window;
Wearing jewelry with the gems facing outward;
Not checking under my car before I get in;
Failing to wear my purse strap across my chest;
Listening to my "gift of fear."

I honestly do believe that I am lucky to be alive at this point in my life. However, I cannot attribute my continued state of living to checking under the car every time I get in to make sure some mugger doesn't cut my Achilles tendon and steal my purse.

Instead, I've relied upon the kindness of strangers, who have variously:

Driven me home at 4 a.m. after finding me wandering down the side of the road;
Spoke kindly to me at the airport car rental desk when the last leg of my flight home was cancelled after I'd already been in the air for approximately 62 hours, give or take an hour;
Allowed me to use their calling card to wake up my mother and tell her not to bother picking me up at the airport, since I was apparently stuck in Munich for the foreseeable future;
Invited me to eat Thanksgiving dinner with them;
Given me flat water to drink, rather than the horrible fizzy kind;
Come to my house and made me dinner when my dad died;
Tried to teach me to ride a bike;
Let me hang out with them, even though I was the most uncool person in the room.