My weekend was pretty uneventful, just like I like them. Just relaxing enough to make me really wish I had a few more days off to do all the errands I planned to do this weekend.

There was a running theme this weekend – I am old.

Friday, I went to the Cubs game with my mom and they lost, badly. So I drank beer and made sure my drunk mom didn’t fall (I failed at that when I convinced her to climb over the seats at Wrigley) and that she didn’t get left behind at Sluggers (WIN!). We came back to my place while it was still light out. We napped and watched TV  and ordered pizza for dinner. I think the plan was to rally, but we were both in bed early. Like before 11 PM. And I was sober. (Mom, not so much.)

Mom stayed over Friday night, so on Saturday I took her home because her and Gram had chores for me. I did my chores, we went to Target and then my Grandma told me she would pray for me at church. And that I should go with her because there is a tall guy she sees every Saturday. And she would hook me up with her friend’s grandson, but she found out that he doesn’t like to drink or go out to bars and Gram was all “Oh, then he’s totally the wrong guy for Kris!” (I tried to deny it, but what’s the point?)

I finally went home and got ready for the Hawks game that night. The plan was to have a beer at my friend Melissa’s house before we headed out to the bars and well, we ended up staying for the whole game because it was less crowded and there were no drunk douchebags at Melissa’s, besides myself.

My friend Ang made the trek into the city from the burbs with a friend of hers from MN, so we went out after the game ended. We met Ang’s sister and her boyfriend out and then I proceeded to attempt to flirt with the bartender. I knew he was too young, but her was cute! And I was drunk! And the Hawks won!

He looked like Matthew Lillard. Not as weird looking, but he could have won a look-alike contest. Except, this was the WRONG thing to tell him. He HATES Matthew Lillard. (I didn’t realize people had such strong feelings for Matthew Lillard.) I tried to make conversation and everything came out of my mouth I regretted as soon as it I said it. It was the worst display of flirting ever! It was like those people on that reality show with that magic guy. You know, this guy:

Mystery, Magic, same thing.

We ended up leaving that bar before I made more of an ass of myself and I wouldn’t be able to ever come back. We went down the street and met a bunch of weird, shady douchebags, so we didn’t even finish our beers and took off.

Sunday I did nothing. I only left the house to get dinner because it was hot as balls out. So I caught up on Glee and napped and went to bed at like 10:30 PM. Apparently my body was like “We do not stay up this late on Sundays, lady!”

Today was another momentous day for my old-lady self. I read my book on the couch, napped and wrote out my grocery list. I finally got a bug up my ass to finally switch TV stands. So I moved the TV and other items from the entertainment center to my new TV stand. And in the process I forgot I’m almost 33 and not 18 and that TVs and furniture are heavy. And so I tweaked my back, AGAIN. So basically I’ve spent the rest of Sunday admiring my new TV stand in use, not moving very much, so as not to anger my lower back. (I did go grocery shopping, which was stupid because I think I just made it worse.)

Who knew the iPhone could capture such good photos of 90210 on TV?

(Speaking of the OG 90210, my youngest half-sister is going to be 18. She went to prom in what looked to be Brandon Walsh’s replica old Mustang. So I commented on the photo, making myself laugh out loud, wondering if she went to prom with Brandon Walsh. And if Cindy and Jim were around. And then I laughed and laughed! I never heard back from her, so when I saw her recently, she’s all “I don’t know who that is.” And then I died. Of old age. The end.)

So now I’m going to apply some Ben Gay, drink some Mylanta and put on my house coat and slippers and head to bed. And all other things I imagine old people do.

How was your long weekend? When is the next one??

I’m not a slob. I pick up after myself, mostly, and my house is not like a hoarder lives here. I do the dishes (because I have a dishwasher) and I don’t leave things just lying around. Mostly. But in my old age, I’ve become messier. And when you have two cats, it doesn’t help that laziness = cat hair tumbleweeds all around your condo.

This past Saturday evening, I was having people over. My oldest half-sister Alix was graduating from college. And since she went to Loyola, which is just a few short miles from my house, I offered to have people over for food and drinks after the ceremony. Most of my stepmom’s family lives much further away, so they weren’t coming, but we were going to have a small group of about 9 people. So nothing huge.

Obviously then, I needed to clean. Because, and I probably should not admit this, I hadn’t really cleaned for awhile. Like months. Like since Thanksgiving.

Oh, I clean the counters in the kitchen every now and then. The bathroom stays pretty clean. Ish. But, that’s about it. My place was disgusting. And it needed to be cleaned. But who wants to spend their weekends cleaning when you could be drinking or eating or watching TV? Not me, that’s for sure!

So I spent Friday night and pretty much most of the day Saturday cleaning. And cleaning. And then cleaning some more. I was sweaty and tired and sore, but my house was clean! Yay! And then I remembered how good it felt to be clean! And I thought “I really should do this upkeep more often!” And then I sat down on the couch to watch TV and I was like cleaning? Me? Hell to the no!

And I know that if I just cleaned a little every weekend, I wouldn’t have to spend 4 hours cleaning over a weekend every, ahem, 6 months. If I just kept it up, I could have spent most of my Saturday catching up on my DVR and not sweeping up errant pieces of cat litter.

I know this and yet? Nothing will probably change. In fact, I’ve already been Googling the prices and availability of a cleaning woman. Any takers?

I put the futon together that weekend. I even wrote about it here and took a photo.

The entertainment center has since been sitting in the box it came in. All these months. First it sat in the middle of the living room, where the delivery guys left it. Then the cats puked on the box, so I had to move it. So I stood it up in the second bedroom and there it has been, just gathering dust.

UNTIL TONIGHT! For some reason I got a bug up my ass at like 7 PM this evening and decided to put the damn thing together. And now I have no skin left on my hands from overuse of the screwdriver and Allen wrench.

But it is put together! And the next step is to actually use it and move the TV and DVD player to the new TV stand. And use the old one as an armoire and FINALLY finish unpacking from when I moved in. WHICH WAS ALMOST A YEAR AGO! I have given new meaning to the term baby steps.

Isn’t it pretty? It matches my coffee table, which means that I’m an adult with matching furniture. Also, I have to now go to bed because my hands hurt from all the screwing (HA!) and my ass hurts from all the sitting on hardwood floors while I put this bad boy together. Because I’m old.

Now I’m off to rest my old bones. And finish watching Beauty & the Briefcase, because I can never turn down an ABC Family original!

That is my back door OPEN. The one that goes to the balcony. The balcony that is OUTSIDE. MY HOUSE WAS OPEN ALL WEEKEND!

First thing I did is looked to the coffee table and saw my laptop. WHEW! Second, I looked for the cats. Simba was in his usual spot, sleeping on the blankets in the laundry basket that I need to take to the laundromat because my washer is too small. I wasn’t too worried about Simba. He is a smart cat. He knows that if he were to run away, things would be dire. He knows how good he’s got it in my house.

But Kitty Kitty, she likes to bolt any chance she gets. She likes to try and sneak out the front door when I leave in the mornings. She thinks there is an awesome world out there that I am DENYING her. I figured I had seen the last of her.

I went out to the balcony and looked for her. I called her name. Finally she came running. She had been hiding in her usual spot under the futon in my second bedroom.

*DEEP SIGH OF RELIEF*

Then I turned on the heat because it was like 55 in my house! Brrrr!

Here’s the thing, as I was leaving Chicago on Friday morning, sitting on a plane bound for Houston, hoping that I didn’t stink like all the beer I drank the night before, I thought “I bet you the back door isn’t locked. And I bet you I’m going to come home to a wide open door, no cats and a ransacked house.”

Thankfully I forgot about this thought. Otherwise I would have had ruined my awesome weekend. And really, there was nothing to do at that point since no one has keys to my place. (NOTE TO SELF, GIVE SOMEONE A SPARE SET OF KEYS!)

But as soon as I landed in Chicago Sunday afternoon, I was worried about what I was going to come home to. I prayed that everything would be OK. And as soon as I got off on the elevator, I knew it wasn’t going to be good. It was COLD in the hallway. It’s never cold in the hallway, unless some window (or DOOR) is open.

And my fear was confirmed – Door. Open. WIDE. OPEN.

After I found the cats and killed the flies that had come in, I then proceeded to make sure no one was in the house. I armed myself with pepper spray and pulled back the shower curtain, opened all the closets and looked under the beds. No one was there. I really got away scott free. But I slept with the pepper spray on the nightstand just in case.

Oh, and you’re wondering, I’m sure, how the door came to be unlocked? Let’s just say I had a visitor on Thursday night after going out to a bar and this visitor is a smoker and there is no smoking in my house. And said visitor is an idiot and didn’t lock my door, which is why I will never be calling/texting/seeing said visitor ever again.

Also, I woke up with this on my arm after hanging out with said visitor:

So not only does this visitor not know how to lock a door, said visitor also gave me some sort of rash/allergic reaction. (My friend Teri said she had something similar and the doctor said it was an allergic reaction, generally to food or a preservative. SO SAID VISITOR CLEARLY ALSO DRUGGED ME. Or something.)

But I’m very, very, very thankful that this all turned out for the best. And that my kitties are still OK and still puking on my carpet like nothing has changed.

And tomorrow I’ll tell you all about my awesome trip to Houston and how it was just what I needed.

:::::

So because I was so lucky and got away with no harm to my house, etc, I feel like I should pay it forward. Like donate money to charity or volunteer my time or SOMETHING. I want to thank the universe for doing a good thing for me. Any ideas internet? I have to help someone else for me being so lucky.

Now, our association is the two buildings, mine and the one next to us. So I would assume that if we had a smaller gathering, we could do it at someone’s house? And then booze would be involved. Right? Isn’t that how condo association meetings should work? No booze, no KJ.

Anyway, I noticed in early January that the forms they wanted us to fill out for the property management company were from a new company. A different company than the one I had just mailed a check to. DOH! See, self, this is why you don’t procrastinate.

I finally signed up with the new management company, who are awesome and so in the 21st century because they do everything through an online portal. You can pay your bill, review meeting minutes, or ask a question on the message boards.

And, lo, these message boards have provided me many, many minutes of enjoyment.

First it was that it snowed, and WTF? Is someone going to shovel or plow? (In this person’s defense, I wholeheartedly agreed. Because I purposely found a condo that had snow removal in the assessments because hell if I was going to shovel!)

Then there was the one where the guy started YELLING because he was mistakenly charged a late fee for his monthly assessments and not only got ANGRY, but decided that apparently this meant that the property management company was a bunch of incompetent assholes and he LOST THE FAITH! To which the property manager fired back with “wow, I’m kind of saddened it took one small thing like this, that we have REVERSED, to make you lose the faith so quickly.” To which I said, out loud, “awwww, snap Bertha (not her real name)! Don’t mess with Bertha, people!”

But the most recent discussion has been the best. And not really in a good way, just more in a solutions presented way.

We seem to have some thieves running around. Remember when my package disappeared? Apparently I’m not the only one who has had this problem. In addition to people stealing mail, there have been a number of bike thefts because someone, or someones, are propping open the back door, which invites random strangers into our building.

That actually worries me a bit and I’m glad that the other residents are concerned, because that needs to be stopped. Also, I’m glad I had my brother install that very thick, strong deadbolt lock on my front door.

The problem is real and we do need to do something about it. But trading messages on a message board probably isn’t the best way to handle it. Because like someone so astutely pointed out, I’m pretty sure the culprits aren’t reading this chain on the message board. Because, as someone pointed out, IT IS PROBABLY THE RENTERS! RENTERS ARE EVIL!

Solution number one was to “throw all the bricks and other objects away that could be used to prop open the door.” Good idea! Except, I always see new bricks by the door every day. WE HAVE A BRICK HOARDER AMONGST US!

There has been talk of installing a security camera. I am all for that to one, catch the mail thief to see if he/she is wearing my pants from New York & Company, and two, to see who is disobeying rules and propping the door open and then LEAVING it open to allow all sorts of people and drunk homeless derelicts in!

But in the meantime, a bunch of dudes on the message board have come up with another plan! A better plan! One dude will take a day and just sit outside the door waiting for the bad-doer!

But then someone had a better idea! They will collect a small fee from the residents to pay someone minimum wage to sit outside the door to catch the culprit! And apprehend him/her? And turn him/her into the police station down the street? Who knows?

Except, how will anyone know how to ID this person? OH, the dilemma!

So this is my daily soap opera…waiting to see what hijinks the message board crew will come up with next! I hope the thief hasn’t caught on to their dastardly plan!

I will keep you posted, internet!

BUT! This is why I did it! This is why I chose this particular Lensolution! Because I knew it wasn’t going to be easy! I knew I would always want to choose beddy bye or Words With Friends over blogging! And that is the problem! One that needs fixing!

And thank God for small miracles and shared living!

My neighbors have a dog. It’s a big dog, or it has a big bark. He’s pretty quiet. He’ll bark if you walk past his door, but other than that, nothing too bad. I’ve never had to complain. But sometimes there is another dog in there. It is a small, yappy dog. One that barks A LOT. I imagine it barks each time it blinks. That’s how it seems. And then when little Yappy starts barking, the big dog starts barking. And then my cats lose their shit. And I pray they don’t lose their shit and/or their urine all over my condo.

I think they dogsit Yappy. He’s not here all the time. This is the second time since I’ve lived here that I remember Yappy. And it is the sameYappy. Of this I’m sure. I am thankful Yappy doesn’t live here full time.

Anyway, so tonight I’m sitting on my couch, watching the Olympics, updating Twitter, playing three-letter words in my WWF games (lazy trifectaright there) and I hear a scuffle in the hallway. I hear Yappy barking, big dog barking, man yelling and then swearing and banging. I OF COURSE run to the door to listen and peep out the peep hole to see what is going on. Unfortunately I live in a long hallway and my hole peeps to an empty wall. And the action was happening WAY at the end of the hall, out of the reach of my peeping hole. So I just kind of keep listening. Whatever is going on, it’s still raging and the yelling and barking has gotten louder.

So what do I do? I do what any sane person would do. I open the door and peer out to see what the fuck is going on. I figure if anyone asks, I shall deny my nosiness and just want to make sure no one was harmed. I look out and I see a bunch of people in the hallway, yelling. I see dogs, plural, barking. I see people I think are my neighbors.

It doesn’t look like anything more than an argument. The people across the hall seem to be really upset. But I’m not sure why. I’m sure the dude is just TIRED OF THE YAPPING! And I almost thank him for saying something on the behalf of the rest of us because SHUT UP YAPPY! But decide against it and go back inside.

Things start to calm down and I figure whatever kerfuffle that happened is now over. But then, OF COURSE, it starts back up again with the barking and the yelling! So I OF COURSE open the door and peer out to see just what the hell is going on. I don’t even care that everyone knows I am nosey and can see me peering out. I don’t even care that this is what I’m wearing from the waist down:

FISH PANTS! LEOPARD SLIPPERS! And I wasn’t even wearing a bra! PEOPLE SAW ME IN THIS! MANY PEOPLE! DOGS TOO!

Finally it dawned on me that I am indeed not invisible and I should go back to my position of snooping through the peep hole and with a glass up to the door.

And then it all broke up. And I went back to the Olympics and the meatballs I’m making for the pot luck tomorrow.

After about 20 minutes or so, I heard Yappy. And I heard talking. And I heard the neighbor girl say she wanted to apologize to the dude across the hall. So I paused the TV and snuck over to the door to watch and listen to find out the scoop!

It wasn’t that exciting. Apparently Yappy tried to bite the dude, but didn’t. Because Yappy wasn’t on a leash. And madness ensued and the dude got very frightened. And the only way for them all to communicate about all of this over the yapping dogs was to YELL! And they were sorry and girl would keep Yappy on a leash.

BUT THEN! THEN! I saw girl walking towards my door and oh shit! She was knocking on it. I had a Friends moment and thought maybe she could see me peering out. But I didn’t say “I can see you!” But, I should probably answer the door. But I should wait a few seconds and shuffle my feet so she didn’t think I was standing right by the door, yes? YES!

I answered it. She was a lovely girl. She felt very bad for causing the kerfuffle. I assured her I was only looking out the door to make sure that no one was hurt or needed help or was being attacked. It had nothing to do with curiosity. I’m pretty sure she didn’t buy it. And then she walked away to apologize to the rest of the neighbors.

Thankfully she didn’t ask to borrow a plunger.

So how are you fair readers? Are there any of you left out there? From my stats, it doesn’t seem like it, but I will keep on keepin’ on.

Did you all have nice weekends? Mine was pretty low key. My brother and nephew came over for a bit on Saturday afternoon, I got an eyebrow wax, I napped a lot and I saw New Moon. Nothing too exciting.

But I did want to tell you about on odd thing that happened to me this weekend.

As I mentioned, my brother and my nephew Noah came over on Saturday afternoon for a few hours. My SIL and my niece were going downtown to have lunch at American Girl Place. Skyler got the doll for a combo Christmas and birthday present from my SIL’s mom. And since Noah is almost eight and against all things girly, he did NOT want to go. And since my brother didn’t want to park downtown, they came to hang out with me. The kids really like my balcony. Old Auntie has it so sweet in her high-rise living! (I’m on the third floor.)

Anyway, after they left, there was a knock at my door. They were back again, apparently they forgot some of Noah’s toys. After they left a second time there was another knock at my door. I figured they needed to pee or wanted a drink for the road or something.

Turns out, it wasn’t them. It was my neighbor from down the hall. I had seen her once before. She lives at the end of the hall and has a very large dog that lives with her. One time they were locked out and she was just sitting in the hall with said large dog. I ran down the stairs as fast I could. Did I mention it was a LARGE dog? Like a Doberman or something?

Anyway, so the chick knocks on my door. I’m caught off guard because that has never happened. Not in the 6 months I have lived here, nor the four years I lived in my apartment. It basically has never happened to me, recently, that I can recall. I give off an unneighborly vibe, apparently. Or had.

Since I don’t know any of my neighbors, I figured I should be nice and accommodating because I don’t want them to think I’m a bitch. But I also don’t want them to ever knock on my door again, unless it is to offer me free wine. That I will take from them and drink alone in my house.

Neighbor girl asked if I had a plunger I could borrow.

First thought: Um, what?

Second thought: Do I even have a plunger?

I had her come in for a second so the cats wouldn’t run out the door and checked for her. I did indeed have one. So I lent it to her. She told me that she’d be back when she was done. And then I sat down on the couch and thought about EXACTLY what I had just done.

Of course, I first Twittered about it. Because I was like “that wouldn’t be the most ideal way to introduce yourself to a neighbor would it? Hahahaha! Better her than me!” And then I thought more about the plunger and what she’d be doing with it and then I barfed in the sink. Which wasn’t smart, since I didn’t have a plunger if my sink got clogged.

After about 20 minutes, she didn’t come back. I figured it was because she realized the grossness of this and would just BUY me a new plunger instead of giving me the tainted one back.

I was wrong.

About 25 minutes later, there was a knock at the door. I opened it and saw Neighbor Girl holding the plunger. Except Neighbor Girl, who had previously been in a sweater and jeans, was now in a tank top and visibly sweaty. Like she has just spent the last TWENTY FIVE MINUTES USING THE PLUNGER! THE PLUNGER SHE WAS HOLDING IN HER HAND! SHE WAS SPENT!

She handed it back to me, saying “it finally worked!” and then decided this, THIS, was the time to introduce herself and shake my hand! So I did, because I’m TOO NICE and do you remember that she has a LARGE DOG?

And then I took the plunger, tossed it in the garbage and washed my hands with bleach. For about 13 minutes.

I will never be able to look her in the eyes again. She’ll always be known to me as Deuce.

(I swear, I can’t make this shit up.) (Pun intended.)

I should have just lied. This is what my mom gets for teaching me manners and to help people out.

I think owning a home is easier in some ways. Only because it’s all yours. You’re not sharing the building with 30 other people and have to go based on decisions of the group.

My condo board kind of sucks. Remember the exterminator issue?

See, there is a note by the mailboxes and it says that if you’re a new resident or have any questions, to email them at their Condo Board email address. So when I moved in, back in May, I sent them an email. I had a question and I also wanted to give them my contact information. I was being a good resident!

I wasn’t sure what to expect. At the very least, I was expecting an answer to my question. And maybe a “welcome to the building!” Something. What I got? NOTHING. Not an email, not a call. Nothing.

Since I sent my original email from my Yahoo address and theirs is a Gmail address, I thought maybe it put my message in the spam folder. So in July, I sent another note. This time from my Gmail address. Still, nothing.

Then, finally, three months after moving in, three months after the original email, I got a response. I got a response to both the Gmail and Yahoo address. I figured we had made some progress.

I was wrong.

Some time in August we got an email about doing a group plan on Dish Network. See, we’re not allowed to have a satellite dish attached to the side of the building, like I and many of my fellow residents currently do. Technically our only option is cable. So the board was nice and looked into better options since cable sucks and is like 5 times more expensive than the dish.

Well, as a current Dish customer and someone who just signed a two-year contract, I had questions about this supposed all-building plan. So I shot off another email to condo board dude.

And then I waited.

THREE WEEKS LATER, I got another email about it. And the dude was totally unhelpful. So I shot back another email, and asked for his contact at Dish and I would call and get the information I needed. And I ended the email with something like “and I hope it doesn’t take me three weeks to get a response back.”

That did the trick and I got  a response back right away and got all my questions answered.

Look, I know we’re all busy and these board members have jobs besides sitting on the condo board. I get that. But I also know that when you decide to run for a position on the board, you know that there are duties that come with it. I mean, even I know that and I know nothing about condos and boards. And it is your job, right? You took this position, willingly. So have some common courtesy and return the emails! Even worse is it is a general mailbox for the ENTIRE board so someone should have responded. Even if you didn’t know the answer, you could just ACKNOWLEDGE the email! And yes! I’m still pissed that my original email from May wasn’t returned for THREE MONTHS.

Anyway, when condo board dude finally gets back to me, I find out I am apparently in violation and shouldn’t have a dish up. Which, fine, but I’m not taking it down until I have the group option. And really, if you send me a letter, maybe I’ll wait three months to take down my dish. I’ll “claim” to have not received it.

But thankfully we’re going to be getting a group rate on Dish Network that will save me loads of cash each month. I’m sure it will be happening in about three months.

In other condo news, we also just got hit with a special assessment. YAY! Condo owning is FUN! *eye roll*

Apparently the developer got the property re-assessed and they lowered the property value by quite a significant amount. Which means my taxes will be A LOT lower. Yay! But developer hired this attorney to do this without consulting the board or the residents and now we owe the lawyer $37,000 or some ridiculous fee. (Dude, I need to become a real estate attorney, apparently.) Boo!

So we have to cover the attorney fees and pay an additional amount each month with our normal monthly assessments to cover this. And thankfully they are spreading it out between three months and it isn’t horrible. And thankfully the developer has no say any more in the building. But still, that money could have been better spent on wine or cheese or a hooker.

But other than that, and the homeless man in my parking space, I do really love my place and love where I live. Especially right now, as I do laundry while I sit on the couch and don’t have to climb three flights of stairs to do it. Even if my washer and dryer are both made by Whirlpool.

But as much as I don’t like to post something just to post, I know if I go any longer without posting, I’m going to give it up altogether. (Can I use the word post any more in one sentence? Geez.) So I’m forcing myself to write, and asking you to help me make some decisions with my furniture. It’s a win-win! For everyone! Or just me.

So I’m currently looking for a linen cabinet to put in my bedroom. In my last apartment, I had this really nice built in linen cabinet where I put sheets and towels and stored miscellaneous/extra bathroom items. And because I don’t have something like that in my condo, I’m on the hunt for something like that to use for storage and MAYBE get some damn boxes out of the entryway. It’s only been three damn months since I moved in.

Last Friday I took a trip to IKEA to see what they had as options. Since I drive a small Nissan Sentra, I wasn’t planning on buying anything that day, I just needed to look around and see my options in person, and not just online. Plus there is also a futon thing I’m looking at there that I needed to see in person (and now need to measure the bedroom wall to make sure it will fit).

Here is one option for the linen storage thingy.

It’s actually from the children’s furniture, but it totally will serve the purpose I need.

Here’s option two:

It would force me to keep it neat since people can SEE IN IT.

Here’s the dilemma. My bedroom furniture is all light wood. It’s a dresser, nightstand and TV stand. None of it matches, it’s not part of a set. My dresser was the main piece I built around because it’s awesome and tall and holds a ton of stuff.

So I’m worried about things not matching. Would it be weird to get a white or yellow cabinet that doesn’t match? Also, would it be weird to have white bedroom furniture, because I kind of want to get this as a TV stand now.

White furniture totally screams children’s room, doesn’t it? I had white furniture as a kid. I should stop shopping in the children’s section of IKEA and just get the yellow cabinet, huh? I just don’t know. GAH! Can you help me? What do you suggest? A whole new bedroom set? (HAHAHAHA!)

Feel free to leave other ideas (with links, preferably) in the comments.

I also didn’t post because I am out of ideas. Well, I have a few things in mind, but I wasn’t feeling it last night. Mostly because I may have fallen asleep on the couch before 8 PM.

Thankfully the Blog Gods smiled upon me. Because as I was pulling into my parking space tonight, I saw this.

I know what you’re thinking and NO, that is not a dead body in a parking space of my condo.

What it is, though, is a DRUNK BUM SLEEPING IN A PARKING SPACE AT MY CONDO! IN THE SPOT NEXT TO MINE! Like my spot is to the left in that photo. Which means my car door? OPENED RIGHT NEAR HIM! I THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO JUMP IN MY CAR AS I WAS GETTING OUT FOR A COMFIER PLACE TO SLEEP! SERIOUSLY! I DEBATED GETTING OUT THE PASSENGER SIDE!

People, I do NOT live in the ghetto. Not even close. It may not be Rahm Emanuel’s neighborhood, where I used to live, but I would hope my friends who know where I live would back me up and say NOT THE GHETTO! So why is there a bum sleeping in a parking spot? When there is a nice grassy knoll not far from where he sleeps?

(I should have woken him from his slumber to ask him this. But then I would have lost a chance to snap his photo. All stealth-like, of course, because you know what they say about waking a sleeping bum. DO NOT DO IT.)

Also, why was I afraid of a bum who was so shitfaced I could have literally pushed him over with my finger? Because he didn’t even flinch when I pulled into the parking lot. And he’s lucky I didn’t run him over because I don’t generally scan the parking lot for PASSED OUT BUMS!

And, have I asked, WHY WAS THERE A BUM SLEEPING IN MY PARKING LOT? NEXT TO MY CAR?

Discuss amongst yourselves.