I'm fine. After I finally fell back to sleep, I slept until about a half hour ago. There's no damage outside, except what appears to be a fuzzy shoe print. Inside, part of the door casing is splintered and the molding popped off.
Spike's Bitches 44: It's about the rules having changed.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
OTOH? Micro Pigs!
Cripes, Ginger.
Glad you're okay, Ginger! But, crikey, you poor woman - v. scary! Lots of doggie treats for Mr Peabody! Did you call the police?
Ginger, I'm glad to read that you're ok, and I agree with others who think you should let the police know what happened.
Bonny, I'm so sorry for your loss, tons of ~ma to the family, especially the daughter.
I called them this morning. By the time my brain recovered from WTF and "I must barricade the doors now," he was long gone. My Ambien-addled brain was not working well.
According to the crime-mapping website [link] linked to from my police department's website, there have been four other recent attempts to break down doors at 2-4 a.m. within a half mile of here.
Bah. According to the material I received from my doctor about the procedure I had, this is about the point where I'm supposed to be doing some sort of emotional lambada. I was so sure that armed with the knowledge, I'd be able to avoid it, or at least, minimize its effects.
NSM.
I'm in want to curl up in a ball and tell the world to go away mode.
Which pisses me off because really, I've got it good. No reason for me to feel this way.
Bah.
{{{{{Barb}}}}} I'm sorry. I know what it feels like to feel awful for no good reason, and I hope it passes quickly.
Blah, I hope it passes quickly. That feeling isn't a good one.
For Barb: [link]