weird day
I was suppose to have a half day today. Turned out to be a full day. Except I only had 2 leasons. The rest of the time I was wandering around the school library, trying not to look out of place.
I was impressed by the number of good books and comics and graphic novels and such I saw there. But for someone who loves to read, but for who reading hurts, being in a well slocked library is a bit like putting a starving glutten intolerant diabetic in a cake shop. Its a bit frustrating.
When walking to the bus stop on my way home, I was stopped by an old guy who had locked himself out of his house. He suggested I may be able to help him by opening the back window, which he couldn't do as he had a broken arm. I checked it was his house (he had his licence with him). He took me round to the back window, which had external hinges. I was able to get the pins out, but without purchase, I couldn't get the window out of the frame. Half an hour of fiddling and fussing later, I give up and start looking at other options. I look at the tile roof, and check the door locks. The back door lock looks pickable, so I get out some wire and start getting it into shape. Throughout all of this we have been having a bit of a one sided and fairly random conversation.
He says that the back door is bolted on the inside. OK, I think, no picking that, how about the front? Oh, it is also bolted? huh? At this stage I felt we may not be communicating as clearly as I had thought. I asked where the keys where. He produced them from his back pocket, saying that the lock sticks. It was not the smoothest lock in the world, but I opened it easily enough. I then put the bolts back intothe window hinges and slowly disengaged myself from his increasingly incoherent monologue.
I wandered off to my bus and got back home just 30 minutes before pixie arrived, dropped off both kids and headed back to a work meeting.
Also, game tonight was cancelled.
so frustrating and ... weird day.
I was impressed by the number of good books and comics and graphic novels and such I saw there. But for someone who loves to read, but for who reading hurts, being in a well slocked library is a bit like putting a starving glutten intolerant diabetic in a cake shop. Its a bit frustrating.
When walking to the bus stop on my way home, I was stopped by an old guy who had locked himself out of his house. He suggested I may be able to help him by opening the back window, which he couldn't do as he had a broken arm. I checked it was his house (he had his licence with him). He took me round to the back window, which had external hinges. I was able to get the pins out, but without purchase, I couldn't get the window out of the frame. Half an hour of fiddling and fussing later, I give up and start looking at other options. I look at the tile roof, and check the door locks. The back door lock looks pickable, so I get out some wire and start getting it into shape. Throughout all of this we have been having a bit of a one sided and fairly random conversation.
He says that the back door is bolted on the inside. OK, I think, no picking that, how about the front? Oh, it is also bolted? huh? At this stage I felt we may not be communicating as clearly as I had thought. I asked where the keys where. He produced them from his back pocket, saying that the lock sticks. It was not the smoothest lock in the world, but I opened it easily enough. I then put the bolts back intothe window hinges and slowly disengaged myself from his increasingly incoherent monologue.
I wandered off to my bus and got back home just 30 minutes before pixie arrived, dropped off both kids and headed back to a work meeting.
Also, game tonight was cancelled.
so frustrating and ... weird day.