To my right is one section of the NY Times from Sunday, the 22nd of April. I have yet to get through this one section.
In front of me is .... I hesitate to say it....a Phil Collins concert on PBS. Even Phil Collins is fed up with how exciting my night is. He appears to have not even shaved. I didn't think it possible, but he is at some level of Advanced Bald. I've never seen him so smooth (from the face up).
Speaking of break ins...(bear with me on this one), the sink was all clogged up for whatever reason for a couple of days. It was working fine, then one day I came home and the dude downstairs had water pouring out of his ceiling. So while I worked from home today, the guys who would be fixing it, showed up. They left me alone for a long time while I worked. Eventually I went out to check on progress because it feels weird having two strange guys in the house with my back to the doorway. They struck up conversation. It felt innocent at first. Then my mind started making a checklist of warning signs. Too many questions about me. Asking about the picture of my daughter on the fridge. I mentioned my older daughter (did not mention that she lives slightly further away than the next planet) and hoped they'd think she was here too. I hoped that the little teen would come home after they had left. The good thing is, Former Live In Partner (FLIP - wow. Appropriate.) showed up but didn't stay long. It was obvious that he doesn't live here. And I thought to myself briefly,what if both parties want to "off" me. But neither can because the other party is here. I wish I could say that thought stayed far on the outskirts of my imagination, but the shameful facts are what they are.
He left after they did. Only they weren't gone. They were slowly putting their things away in the truck in the driveway. They saw him leave. And I thought to myself, I'll bet one of them is going to come back up here and make some excuse. I couldn't imagine what it would be - "Hi, I left my um, well, I guess Nothing up here. So whoops, sorry to trouble you, but glad that I saw the inside of your place again." Teen-A-Ling had managed to get home already while they were out in the back and asked to go to the library, so I sent her off and watched her out the front window. Yep, 30 seconds from here to the door. (I had to count since that's what I tell everyone). But she came back quickly. And of course, Fix It guy managed to come back up to tell me something that I thought was rather full of fish and quite lame. No tools were left here...no real thing to tell me. Flag flag flag.
Then Teen-A-Ling walked in. He seemed brightened to see her, which under normal circumstances I'd be proud of.
But now you have the MacGuyver Method Mom figuring out how to block a door from being busted in. FLIP wouldn't actually do anything harmful....he stopped by bearing the gift of Mutant Cupcake. The other guy though, that would keep me up at night. This is where a bottle of bourbon would help. I'd ditch the paranoia and strike an intruder with the bottle. Or throw bourbon in his eyes. That's right creepy Bad Excuse To Come Back Fix It Guy, the ole dehydrate your eyeballs in high proofs trick!
Phil Collins was just bopping up and down in place. Not jumping, just sort of bopping. He addressed the audience and I found it weird that he was still bopping. I think he is just getting old and couldn't put the brakes on.
And although I've heard people call him the Anti-Christ I fully disagree. Pink Floyd is.
Onward....time to finish up this one section of last Sunday's paper.
