not going great and am not happy

In which we are all in jr. high school again.



Let's do bullets for this one:

* Noticed last week that Mr. Downstairs, after verbally abusing his pregnant girlfriend and then screaming at their newborn, was having another woman sleep over while girlfriend and baby were out of town. Seemed shady, but could have been his sister or something, right? At least it was quiet for a change.

* Was still punchy on Thurs about Dance Class Girl resurfacing, and heard neighbor return, to minor squabbling. Happened to be on computer, and noted on assfacebook that I hoped she knew about the visitor. Mentioned no names, deleted it about an hour later, but someone had already had a scandalized joyride figuring it out and calling everyone in creation to squee in mock-horror about it, including Ms. Downstairs.

* Received badly structured "don't talk shit about us" message from Ms. Downstairs. Replied with a "sorry about that, and also your boyfriend is an asshole" message. Am a respectably employed knitting-type person who doesn't do drugs, one of the benefits of which is that the cops like me and wave hello. Am not afraid of abusive partying drug addicts who scatter like roaches when they see flashing lights.

*Am, however, afraid of paranoid schizophrenics. Came home after a long day in town to a late-night phone call from the Apocalypse guy. He asked if I had heard anyone talking about him or his kids, I said I had not (which is true, haven't even thought of him myself since the dinner thing a few months ago). He said he had heard someone say that his baby was tiny, and had got on the phone and threatened to kill them and the cops were all over his house because of it. I suggested that was a bad idea, he said, "That's your opinion, people have to be prepared to pay the consequences for what they do". I suggested that was what was happening if you threatened to kill people, he said, "That's your opinion." First clue that rational thinking is not present. He deflected with a question about a library book, which I answered and then said goodnight. He called back immediately to talk to Mike, as "the man", and told him that when I came over for that Dinner of Doom a few months ago, I had called their newborn baby "tiny", and he'd better make sure his woman didn't talk about them anymore (OH NOES I AM TALKING ABOUT IT RIGHT NOW AND I AM A WOMAN HAAALP). Mike suggested that newborn babies are tiny and it's usually a normal observation, but the guy said he would get me fired and went into yell-over-other-person mode and then politely told Mike to have a nice night. Am going to have a nice morning at the police station instead.

* Have not noticed any local readers to my blog, but am shutting it closed for now, just in case. People are too bored out here, and I will turn into the next Us magazine and people will whisper in scandal about my yarn choices.

Ok, so this has all led to some agitation, locked doors, and not a few thoughts about Mike running half-naked out of the bedroom with the broadsword to hack up an intruder, a la Jamie Fraser. (Oo-er) No word on the status of my transfer request, but I may push the notion just a bit.