Hokay, I have heard of freaky Fridays, but this one beats everything....

I got woken at quarter to six by someone who was out on the balcony in the building across from me telephoning on his handy. (Cell phone.) LOUDLY.

Hokay, happens...

Rode the bus across town, and pushed Peter over to the apothecary, to get his medicines, and had a harpy who drove me fucking crazy over something he needed, because it wasn't on the receipt, and it isn't anything good, but they gave him so much antibitotics, he shits himself if he doesn't take it and I am the one who gets to clean up the mess.

Am having a health problem of my own, and every exertion leaves me panting like a fucking dog in August, and haven't been to my own doctor because, a.) I have a lung infection at best, and b.) I don't want to know....

So I refused to go this week, you know?

I stay home a lot and sleep in the hope it will go away, but it isn't.

WHEN I can sleep. First Peter woke me up with news about a new time to go to hospital. Ok....

I hardly fell asleep, and there are two harpies in the building across the court from me who went off the charts for raging hormones, and screamed me awake. I have no idea what it was about.... but being wakened up rudely on a hot summer's day, screamed out the window that they should STFU.

And then for the upteenth time, my cell phone went off, and it is only for emergency calls from Peter, and once again it was from someone in Germany, telling me I could win a GMX auto, had taken part in a lottery, and I never did that in my life. And it eats up my credit on it. I was pissed off.

Meanwhile, I got an e-mail I do not know how to answer, and it was in caps.

Nothing mean, he is just not versed in internet courtesy.

So I thought the reign of terror was over. And then the phone rang again. Fredy.

Fredy contacted me a couple of weeks ago via a dating service I had forgotten about. And really really wants to meet me. I assume his name is really Friedrich. And was in Graz last Friday, and wanted to meet me, but I couldn't have him in my house, as Werner was stilll freaking out on my sofa cushions before I kicked him out....

(Some things get to be really too much, you know?)

So there he was again.... Fredy. At nine p.m. and randy in Carynthia, seemingly... I guess he didn't like getting put off politely, or something. I do not know the slightest fact about this person, but he seemingly is interested in me. He has the thickest carynthian dialect I have ever heard.

That is absurd, and not rational. And went all 'paternal' and asshole on me. I need to see a doctor, and then go to see him, and he will make it all better, because he's hung, or something.

Sigh.

Where was he five years ago?

That is not where I AM right now...

Am concerned about maybe a lung infection, emphysema, maybe cancer, and the clown car pulls up and distracts me to the point where I could jump outta winder, except mine isn't high enough up.

OK, W. is going up before court for supposedly having broken and entered his ex's house and beat her up, which I do not believe for a moment. If that were the case, he would have beat on me for watching Rachel Maddow, because he hates her with a passion.

The crazy ladies with the raging hormones are currently screaming full blast across the way. Sound like cats.

Oh. Ok..... The po-lice are over there now, and some of the sound is diminishing.

Our Po-lice only come if someone calls them, and then it had better be important, because otherwise YOU get bitched at.

That is the difference.