Delay due to technical difficulties
Monday morning I was awakened at 4:30 in the morning by the sounds of a woman being attacked. I had been dreaming of shopping in a mall with my mother when stage left I heard this woman screaming for help and the sounds of slaps. I reaized this didn't fit with the mall sceanario and woke up and woke J up to make sure I was hearing correctly. As soon as we were coherent, he ran downstairs to look out the window and I called 911. The man and woman were in a white van and not two minutes after I called the cops, they drove off. Unfortunately, J didn't have his glasses and by the time I got downstairs with mine, the van was too far away. I called 911 back, sheepishly told them we didn't get the license plate number but did tell them which direction the vehicle was heading, just as a police car drove up. Then it was over. We felt awful. Here was this woman being attacked right outside our building and we were too sleepy and dopey to do anything effective about it. We just cuddled in bed. Her screams were so piteous and so familiar--like every movie scene you've ever witnessed with a woman being attacked.
Then yesterday I came home and J informed me that one of our neighbors with an expensive audi was insisting that we had damaged his car during J's bookshelf building in the garage. I know for a fact that this is probably not the case, given the guy drove his car in well after we were half-way done bringing the shelves upstairs. And, his partner had actually parked her vehicle right next to where we had laid out the wood and he had parked his vehicle behind hers and next to J's car, making it impossible to scratch his car on the area above his wheel and towards the trunk as the guy insists. But J has such a shitty memory and so much guilt that he assumed we had damaged the car and wanted to pay--until I reminded him of the details and the fact that these types of repairs on expensive cars can run well past the hundreds. Then we ruined dinner by going over things again and again.
This last week has sucked with a few exceptions. I didn't go to a friend's place in Marin on Wednesday, I didn't go to DNA on Thursday, I didn't go to Ambient Mafia, or help cracksnack move, nor did I do a host of things I wanted to do, because we were fixing the book shelf, then unpacking books, then cleaning our place (becauce of all the sawdust EVERYWHERE). I did have my girl's night out, which went pretty well, but ended with a wimper because I couldn't really have people over comfortably (even thoough people did come over on Friday night) because the place was a disaster. And my first houseguest still arrived to a less than stellar home because J decided his laundry needed to be hang dried (aka strewn about every available surface in the apartment) Sunday night and not folded and put away before I came home with our guest late Monday night.
And now we have our first house guests (in a series of 3 for the next 3 weeks) and I feel too drained and annoyed and unhappy about my universe to treat them right. Well, I don't think I've been doing right by J, quasar's partner. Maybe I will by the next load of folks.
And J's scale can't decide how much I weigh--it varies by 5 pounds depending on how I step onto it. And, the lowest number in the 5 pound variation is still higher than I had expected it to be. And I'm sick.
Then yesterday I came home and J informed me that one of our neighbors with an expensive audi was insisting that we had damaged his car during J's bookshelf building in the garage. I know for a fact that this is probably not the case, given the guy drove his car in well after we were half-way done bringing the shelves upstairs. And, his partner had actually parked her vehicle right next to where we had laid out the wood and he had parked his vehicle behind hers and next to J's car, making it impossible to scratch his car on the area above his wheel and towards the trunk as the guy insists. But J has such a shitty memory and so much guilt that he assumed we had damaged the car and wanted to pay--until I reminded him of the details and the fact that these types of repairs on expensive cars can run well past the hundreds. Then we ruined dinner by going over things again and again.
This last week has sucked with a few exceptions. I didn't go to a friend's place in Marin on Wednesday, I didn't go to DNA on Thursday, I didn't go to Ambient Mafia, or help cracksnack move, nor did I do a host of things I wanted to do, because we were fixing the book shelf, then unpacking books, then cleaning our place (becauce of all the sawdust EVERYWHERE). I did have my girl's night out, which went pretty well, but ended with a wimper because I couldn't really have people over comfortably (even thoough people did come over on Friday night) because the place was a disaster. And my first houseguest still arrived to a less than stellar home because J decided his laundry needed to be hang dried (aka strewn about every available surface in the apartment) Sunday night and not folded and put away before I came home with our guest late Monday night.
And now we have our first house guests (in a series of 3 for the next 3 weeks) and I feel too drained and annoyed and unhappy about my universe to treat them right. Well, I don't think I've been doing right by J, quasar's partner. Maybe I will by the next load of folks.
And J's scale can't decide how much I weigh--it varies by 5 pounds depending on how I step onto it. And, the lowest number in the 5 pound variation is still higher than I had expected it to be. And I'm sick.