It's a list day:
1) On Sunday night I was making dinner when I heard someone trying to open our front door, which was locked. The person then rang the doorbell and I called Francisco (who was getting beat at PS2 by Sharky) to answer it, since I was a little creeped out by the attempt to walk right in. It was a older man who was trying to get to a party he'd been invited to, at our address except south instead of north, and he'd tried to come in because the sign we'd gotten from goodwill and hung by the door said "Open -- Please come in", instead of "Closed -- Please call again". It turns out the Universe sent him to our house (though I did not share that with him), because he is totally awesome and started a conversation with Francisco in which he talked about a whole bunch of stuff I've been thinking a lot about in the past few days. This could be called a coincidence but I don't think it was. Anyway, Francisco and he exchanged email addresses and I hope he'll become our friend, because we all liked him very much, even Sharky, whose 15 year old brain is pretty critical right now.
2) On Saturday afternoon Francisco and I did some errands and then went to get an early dinner at a nearby bar, because we'd heard from a few people that their burgers are the best in town. We were walking, of course, and all was right with the world until I slipped on ice, fell, and whacked my head on the pavement. I was stunned, to say the least. I cracked it quite hard and expected a blinding headache, but it didn't hurt too much, so at my insistence we continued on to the bar (though I was not pleased my jeans were soaked through at the ass region). We got to the bar and discovered they were remodeling the kitchen, so it was closed and will not reopen until Wednesday: This is when the whole expedition turned into classic Greek tragedy for me. We went to another place in walking distance that I'd heard had good burgers, but they are just a drive-through establishment, so we placed an order and stood in the freezing cold for at least 20 minutes, waiting for the fucking burgers--my ass was frozen solid by the time we got our food and walked home. And their burgers were not that good! TRAUMA. Anyway, the upshot is that even though I did not go to the hospital for my head hitting, I'm positive I am mildly concussed, based on symptoms I've read from the internet on mild concussions, and I am not getting nearly enough sympathy for this from anyone except Francisco. The swelling on my skull has subsided but there must be a helluva bruise back there, because even laying my head gently upon a pillow causes pain. Pity me!
3) Francisco had his oral board interview yesterday for Police*; it went very well. He'll find out by the end of this week or beginning of the next where he stands on the list of potential candidates, and he'll find out on the 18th whether the city will actually be hiring another officer. If he's first on the list and they can hire, the job will be his, basically, pending results from a lie detector test and a psych profile. I have a good feeling about it, but Francisco is downplaying his chances, which I understand and would do also if I were him.
4) Lucy's wounds were healing up nicely until yesterday when she licked half her scabs off and, presumably, ate them. I guess it was optimism on my part to think she was not SO dumb, for a cat, because now I know the truth and it is that she's a moron.
5) We decorated our house for Christmas this weekend--it looks good and is making me happy. We bought a fake tree that was super cheap but doesn't Look super cheap, and I really like it. Yay Christmas! I loved putting all our ornaments on an tree rather than on a garland like in previous years; it's more festive somehow.
6) Last Thursday or Friday morning (can't remember which day), Francisco opened the blinds in the room that looks out onto the creek and saw a black SUV in there. There was no one in the SUV, and from the tracks in the snow and ground, we could tell the person had driven onto the empty lot, back to the foundation hole, had turned around and tried to drive back to the street but had somehow ended up in the creek instead. Francisco called Police, and the officers who showed up were guys he already knew from ride-alongs and whatnot, so he and they shot the shit for awhile as they took pictures of the scene, called in the license plate, and etc. The SUV is owned by a university student who, when tracked down, claimed the vehicle had been stolen by joyriders the previous night. Suuuuuure it was. I hate liars, and it's evident that Francisco will be talking to liars all day, every day if he joins Police, so it's a good thing he's already disillusioned with human nature, or he'd be in for a shock.
7) Yesterday during my lunch hour I went to a photography exhibit on campus that I enjoyed; it was in the art building, which I had never been to before, and I found out the walls of the art building have spaces for people to hang their art. There are signs that say something like "Art only! All else will be removed", but there are no signs saying only students can hang things. This has got me thinking, so watch this space.
8) The coworkers who were gone all last week to a conference are back, and there are also auditors hanging around the office, which is making my direct supervisor jumpy and slightly irritable, so the mood in the office is not great and I'm annoyed that every week can't be good like last week. *shaking both fists at the ceiling*
9) I'm not quite done with my cold, which is sort of aggravating except not, because now I think getting a cold was a really good thing for me. I had reported to you, Internet, how my immune system had been roughing me up and giving me fevers, right? It's not doing that anymore, so I think the cold gave it something real to work on and distracted it from bullying my innards, or whatever the hell it does when I get the inflammation. Based on this experience, I think I'll try to contract a mild illness whenever I get the inflammation in the future. I don't know exactly how this will work, but I suspect it will involve kissing a lot of strangers, possibly with tongue. The line starts here! No pushing, friends.
* And by the way, extra credit goes to anyone who knows why I keep calling it just "Police"--I expect Catie will know the answer, because she's smart like that.
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