I recall my daily duties and then consult my diary to see what else is going on. This works well for me, even better when I remember to put in appointments & work commitments (and social activities, which are rare).
This morning I woke up at 6.30am. It was Monday and my brain was free of inspiration. So I wrote about my desk. Which I cleaned. Because that was where my head was at.
After I finished my post, I noticed Chuy, our cat, was walking without the benefit of 4 appendages. So I made the stupid mistake of getting the cat cage out BEFORE I called the vet. Chuy took one look at the happenings and took off. Albeit slowly.
It took me two hours to find him underneath the neighbours house. In the meantime, I had to cancel an important meeting and push back my deadline to The Hoopla, the site that I wrote for weekly, and something that I love.
The vet was just so divine. Turns out that the backyard bully, Alicia the Mauler, had worked her evil again. Luckily Chuy got to come home, armed with antibiotics and a million other instructions.
Because Mr Woog had been giving me the shits about money last week, I send him a text saying that Chuy needed an operation ASAP and we would not get much change from $3000.00.
I let that sit there for a while, before I told him the truth.
But the interesting thing about fate, was that this adventure gave me the inspiration for my Hoopla column, which you can read tomorrow. If you want. And you should.
That would do for most people. I mean, that would have been enough activity for me.
You can never pick it, can you.
At about 3pm, I was beginning to get myself ready to pick up the Woogettes when there was a knock at the door. It was my neighbour. She was here to tell me that she was sitting at her kitchen table when someone tried to jump her fence after having tried to wrench her garage door across.
I did not have too much time before I was going to be late to pick up the kids, so I thanked her and went to the garage. Sonia Kluger had a full tank of petrol and was positively PURRING when I sprung her into life. I pushed the button to open the Garage Door.
It erected itself, like the clunky old bastard it is, to reveal a very suspicious looking dude standing in the back alley. And I knew.
I was going to be robbed.
Because I had to go and get my kids from school.
As I drove off, I called the police to confirm that my neighbours report was true, and that I was about to be robbed but I needed to go and get my kids. They were very helpful and I was able to provide a very accurate description of the dude. They said they might be able to send out a car.
On the way home, the conversation turned to Chuy's condition and since the last cat we had went to the vet and never returned, the focus was squarely on the condition of our feline friend. We opened the back door and walked straight down the hall to check on his condition.
Me, Jack and Harry were standing in Harry's Room, comforting Chuy, when we heard quickly retreating footsteps down the hall and a door slam.
And it was at this time that I realised, I had left Harry's bedroom window opened.
The thief had waited for me to leave for school pick up before scaling the back fence. He had gone down the side of the house, removing each flyscreen as he came across them, in an attempt to gain access. By the time he got around the the front of the house, he was delighted to notice that an idiot lived here.
That idiot would be me.
Me, who left Harry's Bedroom window open. Only one of two windows in the entire house, that had no bars attached.
So I heard him in the house and, I may have shat a bucketload. I heard him run up the hall and slam the door as he left. But the thing that surprised me, was my Mamma Bear instinct. I threw both the kids out the front window, after I jarred the door shut with a chair.
And then, as I hauled my ample ass out of that exit with surprising athleticism, unseen for decades, I opened my Opera Chords with that old classic.......
"FUCK YOU YOU MOTHERFUCKER....."
And fuck you indeed.
Fuck you for making me scared in my own house.
Fuck you for making Mr Woog come home from work early and having to go into the house as live bait.
Fuck you for the fact that my kids are both freaked out and are in our bed right now.
And fuck you, to anyone, who thinks that it is ok to make anyone feel as shit that I did today.
Have you ever had someone in your house that shouldn't be there?
How bad is it?
PS Sorry for the overuse of profanities.
PPS Not really xxx