I'm glad you got what you needed, Hil. I hope you heal up quickly.

Fast healing, Hil.

I keep thinking, "Oh, I should post," and then having no idea what it was I was thinking of saying. I think work ate my brain and made me into a zombie at some point. Or my family did. I used to be able to brain is what I am saying. And now? No brain.

I acnnot brane...see? "Brane" was deliberate, "acnnot" nsm. But it is because the Death Winds of the Apocalypse are bringing in the Allergens of the End Times. This is my first year allergic. I do not approve of it.

Anyway, yes. Too stupid to brane, but unable to just not spill it all over everyone. See also: hungry, but not enough to cook. But by the time I am hungry enough, it will take too long to cook. There's just no winning tonight, I think.

Work was good and bad. So my direct report is one of the assistant managers, which i I'm fine with. Especially since he gave me recogintion for this spreadsheet I've made to track calls.

Bad is - with the restructure there were 3 supervisors and only going to be 2 positions. I didn't want anyone to lose their job, really. But they didn't pick one of the superivisors who I think (and a few other people) thought should have gotten it. He was knowledgeable in all his areas, good with customers and if you needed help you could go to him. The guy who got it - in his department he's FOURTH on the list of employees I'd go to for product knowledge and second for help with a customer.

oh well, all store meeting is Saturday and then Will and I are going to see Winter Soldier in the afternoon.

pretty pictures

Sigh.

I just called the police on my neighbor.

Oh no, why?

I was sitting her making a light supper for myself (Andi's at work), and someone in the white house next door started playing music so loud it was rattling my windows and disturbing my thoughts.

I was low on blood sugar, so it wasn't a good time.

I restrained myself, and opened up the back door, and shouted at the house "Shut the F***K up!" and went inside to finish supper.

Suddenly my doorbell rang. I figured the neighbor came by to apologize, or to complain back.

What I didn't count on was a muscular guy in a wifebeater t-shirt screaming at me, and pushing his way into my back door.

He said if I ever yell at his kids again, he would come over and kill me. He kept threatening me, and I finally got the inside door closed, and he hammered on it hard enough to knock off some refrigerator magnets I had on the other side.

I opened the door and for the second time told him to leave my property.

He kept screaming, I closed the door and locked it.

I called 9-1-1, explained that he was physically trying to enter my house and was threatening me.

They sent three officers, and it was only while I was explaining to them that all I did to start it was a general "shut the F... up," I thought his reaction was something to be concerned at.

I asked them to just let him know I was just addressing the loud music, not his kids. That and my concern at his overreaction to a yell.

Wheee.

Yikes. Not good.